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Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea 
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Around the World in Eighty Days 
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The Blockade Runners 
page 489 


Erom the Earth to the Moon and a Trip Around it 
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TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES 
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TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES 
UNDER THE SEA 


Part One 
CHAPTER I 

A SHIFTING REEF 

T HE year 1866 was signalised by a remarkable incident, 
a mysterious and puzzling phenomenon, which doubtless 
no one has yet forgotten. Not to mention rumours which 
agitated the maritime population and excited the public 
mind, even in the interior of continents, seafaring men were 
particularly excited. Merchants, common sailors, captains 
of vessels, skippers, both of Europe and America, naval 
officers of all countries, and the Governments of several 
States on the two continents, were deeply interested in 
the matter. 

For some time past vessels had been met by “an enormous 
thing,” a long object, spindle-shaped, occasionally phos- 
phorescent, and infinitely larger and more rapid in its move- 
ments than a whale. 

The facts relating to this apparition (entered in various 
log-books) agreed in most respects as to the shape of the 
object or creature in question, the untiring rapidity of 
its movements, its surprising power of locomotion, and the 
peculiar life with which it seemed endowed. If it was a whale, 
it surpassed in size all those hitherto classified in science. 
Taking into consideration the mean of observations made 
at divers times — rejecting the timid estimate of those who 
assigned to this object a length of two hundred feet, equally 
with the exaggerated opinions which set it down as a mile 
in width and three in length — we might fairly conclude that 
this mysterious being surpassed greatly all dimensions ad- 
mitted by the learned ones of the day, if it existed at all. 
And that it did exist was an undeniable fact ; and, with that 
tendency which disposes the human mind in favour of the 

7 


8 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

marvellous, we can understand the excitement produced in 
the entire world by this supernatural apparition. As to class- 
ing it in the list of fables, the idea was out of the question. 

On the 20th of July, 1866, the steamer Governor Hig- 
ginson, of the Calcutta and Burnach Steam Navigation 
Company, had met this moving mass five miles off the east 
coast of Australia. Captain Baker thought at first that he 
was in the presence of an unknown sandbank; he even pre- 
pared to determine its exact position when two columns of 
water, projected by the mysterious object, shot with a hiss- 
ing noise a hundred and fifty feet up into the air. Now, 
unless the sandbank had been submitted to the intermittent 
eruption of a geyser, the Governor Higginson had to do 
neither more nor less than with an aquatic mammal, un- 
known till then, which threw up from its blow-holes columns 
of water mixed with air and vapour. 

Similar facts were observed on the 23rd of July in the 
same year, in the Pacific Ocean, by the Columbus, of the 
West India and Pacific Steam Navigation Company. But 
this extraordinary creature could transport itself from one 
place to another with surprising velocity ; as, in an interval 
of three days, the Governor Higginson and the Columbus 
had observed it at two different points of the chart, sepa- 
rated by a distance of more than seven hundred nautical 
leagues. 

Fifteen days later, two thousand miles farther off, the 
Helvetia, of the Compagnie-Nationale, and the Shannon, of 
the Royal Mail Steamship Company, sailing to windward 
in that portion of the Atlantic lying between the United 
States and Europe, respectively signalled the monster to 
each other in 42° 15' N. lat. and 60° 35' W. long. In these 
simultaneous observations they thought themselves justified 
in estimating the minimum length of the mammal at more 
than three hundred and fifty feet, as the Shannon and 
Helvetia were of smaller dimensions than it, though they 
measured three hundred feet over all. 

Now the largest whales, those which frequent those parts 
of the sea round the Aleutian, Kulammak, and Umgullich 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 9 

islands, have never exceeded the length of sixty yards, if 
they attain that. 

In every place of great resort the monster was the fashion. 
They sang of it in the cafes, ridiculed it in the papers, and 
represented it on the stage. All kinds of stories were circu- 
lated regarding it. There appeared in the papers caricatures 
of every gigantic and imaginary creature, from the white 
whale, the terrible “Moby Dick” of sub-arctic regions, to 
the immense kraken, whose tentacles could entangle a ship 
of five hundred tons and hurry it into the abyss of the ocean. 
The legends of ancient times Avere even revived. 

Then burst forth the unending argument between the be- 
lievers and the unbelievers in the societies of the wise and the 
scientific journals. “The question of the monster” inflamed 
all minds. Editors of scientific journals, quarrelling with 
believers in the supernatural, spilled seas of ink during this 
memorable campaign, some eA^en drawing blood; for from 
the sea-serpent they came to direct personalities. 

During the first months of the year 1867 the question 
seemed buried, neA^er to revive, AAdien new facts Avere brought 
before the public. It was then no longer a scientific problem 
to be solved, but a real danger seriously to be avoided. The 
question took quite another shape. The monster became a 
small island, a rock, a reef, but a reef of indefinite and shift- 
ing proportions. 

On the 5th of March, 1867, the Moravian, of the Montreal 
Ocean Company, finding herself during the night in 27° 30' 
lat. and 72° 15' long., struck on her starboard quarter a 
rock, marked in no chart for that part of the sea. Under the 
combined efforts of the wind and its four hundred horse- 
power, it Avas going at the rate of thirteen knots. Had it not 
been for the superior strength of the hull of the Moravian, 
she would have been broken by the shock and gone down with 
the 237 passengers she AA^as bringing home from Canada. 

The accident happened about five o’clock in the morning, 
as the day was breaking. The officers of the quarter-deck 
hurried to the after-part of the vessel. They examined the 
sea with the most careful attention. They saw nothing but a 
strong: eddy about three cables’ length distant, as if the sur- 


10 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

face had been violently agitated. The bearings of the place 
were taken exactly, and the Moravian continued its route 
without apparent damage. Had it struck on a submerged 
rock, or on an enormous wreck They could not tell; but, 
on examination of the ship’s bottom when undergoing re- 
pairs, it was found that part of her keel was broken. 

This fact, so grave in itself, might perhaps have been for- 
gotten like many others if, three weeks after, it had not been 
re-enacted under similar circumstances. But, thanks to the 
nationality of the victim of the shock, thanks to the reputa- 
tion of the company to which the vessel belonged, the cir- 
cumstance became extensively circulated. 

The 13th of April, 1867, the sea being beautiful, the 
breeze favourable, the Scotia^ of the Cunard Company’s line, 
found herself in 15° 12' long, and 45° 37' lat. She was going 
at the speed of thirteen knots and a half. 

At seventeen minutes past four in the afternoon, whilst 
the passengers were assembled at lunch in the great saloon, 
a slight shock was felt on the hull of the Scotia, on her quar- 
ter, a little aft of the port-paddle. 

The Scotia had not struck, but she had been struck, and 
seemingly by something rather sharp and penetrating than 
blunt. The shock had been so slight that no one had been 
alarmed, had it not been for the shouts of the carpenter’s 
watch, who rushed on to the bridge, exclaiming, “We are 
sinking ! we are sinking !” At first the passengers were much 
frightened, but Captain Anderson hastened to reassure them. 
The danger could not be imminent. The Scotia, divided into 
seven compartments by strong partitions, could brave with 
impunity any leak. Captain Anderson went down immedi- 
ately into the hold. He found that the sea was pouring into 
the fifth compartment ; and the rapidity of the influx proved 
that the force of the water was considerable. Fortunately 
this compartment did not hold the boilers, or the fires would 
have been immediately extinguished. Captain Anderson 
ordered the engines to be stopped at once, and one of the 
men went down to ascertain the extent of the injury. Some 
minutes afterwards they discovered the existence of a large 
hole, two yards in diameter, in the ship’s bottom. Such a 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 11 

leak could not be stopped ; and the Scotia, her paddles half 
submerged, was obliged to continue her course. She was then 
three hundred miles from Cape Clear, and, after three days’ 
delay, which caused great uneasiness in Liverpool, she en- 
tered the basin of the company. 

The engineers visited the Scotia, which was put in dry 
dock. They could scarcely believe it possible; at two yards 
and a half below water-mark was a regular rent, in the form 
of an isosceles triangle. The broken place in the iron plates 
was so perfectly defined that it could not have been more 
neatly done by a punch. It was clear, then, that the instru- 
ment producing the perforation was not of a common stamp 
and, after having been driven with prodigious strength, and 
piercing an iron plate 1% inches thick, had withdrawn itself 
by a backward motion. 

Such was the last fact, which resulted in exciting once 
more the torrent of public opinion. From this moment all 
unlucky casualties which could not be otherwise accounted 
for were put down to the monster. 

Upon this imaginary creature rested the responsibility of 
all these shipwrecks, which unfortunately were considerable ; 
for of three thousand ships whose loss was annually recorded 
at Lloyd’s, the number of sailing and steam-ships supposed 
to be totally lost, from the absence of all news, amounted to 
not less than two hundred ! 

Now, it was the “monster” who, justly or unjustly, was 
accused of their disappearance, and, thanks to it, commu- 
nication between the different continents became more and 
more dangerous. The public demanded sharply that the seas 
should at any price be relieved from this formidable 
cetacean.^ 


CHATTER II 

PRO AND CON 

the period when these events took place, I had just 
returned from a scientific research in the disagreeable ter- 

1 Member of the whale family. 


TWENTY THOUSAND TEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

ritory of Nebraska, in the United States. In virtue of my 
office as Assistant Professor in the Museum of Natural His- 
tory in Paris, the French Government had attached me to 
that expedition. After six months in Nebraska, I arrived in 
New York towards the end of March, laden with a precious 
collection. My departure for France was fixed for the first 
days in May. Meanwhile I was occupying myself in classify- 
ing my mineralogical, botanical, and zoological riches, when 
the accident happened to the Scotia. 

I was perfectly up in the subject which was the question 
of the day. How could I be otherwise ? I had read and reread 
all the American and European papers without being any 
nearer a conclusion. This mystery puzzled me. Under the 
impossibility of forming an opinion, I jumped from one 
extreme to the other. That there really was something could 
not be doubted, and the incredulous were invited to put their 
finger on the wound of the Scotia. 

On my arrival at New York the question was at its height. 
The theory of the floating island, and the unapproachable 
sandbank, supported by minds little competent to form a 
judgment, was abandoned. And, indeed, unless this shoal 
had a machine in its stomach, how could it change its posi- 
tion with such astonishing rapidity.? 

From the same cause, the idea of a floating hull of an 
enormous wreck was given up. 

There remained, then, only two possible solutions of the 
question, which created two distinct parties: on one side, 
those who were for a monster of colossal strength; on the 
other, those who were for a submarine vessel of enormous 
motive power. 

But this last theory, plausible as it was, could not stand 
against inquiries made in both worlds. That a private gen- 
tleman should have such a machine at his command was not 
likely. Where, when, and how was it built.? and how could its 
construction have been kept secret.? Certainly a Government 
might possess such a destructive machine. And in these disas- 
trous times, when the ingenuity of man has multiplied the 
power of weapons of war, it was possible that, without the 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 18 

knowledge of others, a State might try to work such a for- 
midable engine. 

But the idea of a war machine fell before the declaration 
of Governments. As public interest was in question, and 
transatlantic communications suffered, their veracity could 
not be doubted. But how admit that the construction of this 
submarine boat had escaped the public eye? For a private 
gentleman to keep the secret under such circumstances would 
be very difficult, and for a State whose every act is persis- 
tently watched by powerful rivals, certainly impossible. 

Upon my arrival in New York several persons did me the 
honour of consulting me on the phenomenon in question. I 
had published in France a work in quarto, in two volumes, 
entitled Mysteries of the Great Submarine Grounds. This 
book, highly approved of in the learned world, gained for 
me a special reputation in this rather obscure branch of 
Natural History. My advice was asked. As long as I could 
deny the reality of the fact, I confined myself to a decided 
negative. But soon, finding myself driven into a corner, I 
was obliged to explain myself point by point. I discussed the 
question in all its forms, politically and scientifically ; and I 
give* here an extract from a carefully-studied article which I 
published in the number of the 30th of April. It ran as 
follows : 

“After examining one by one the different theories, re- 
jecting all other suggestions, it becomes necessary to admit 
the existence of a marine animal of enormous power. 

“The great depths of the ocean are entirely unknown to 
us. Soundings cannot reach them. What passes in those 
remote depths — what beings live, or can live, twelve or 
fifteen miles beneath the surface of the waters — what is the 
organisation of these animals, we can scarcely conjecture. 
However, the solution of the problem submitted to me may 
modify the form of the dilemma. Either we do know all the 
varieties of beings which people our planet, or we do not. 
If we do not know them all — if Nature has still secrets in 
the deeps for us, nothing is more conformable to reason than 
to admit the existence of fishes, or cetaceans of other kinds. 


14j twenty thousand leagues under the sea 

or even of new species, of an organisation formed to inhabit 
the strata inaccessible to soundings, and which an accident 
of some sort has brought at long intervals to the upper level 
of the ocean. 

‘‘If, on the contrary, we do know all living kinds, we must 
necessarily seek for the animal in question amongst those 
marine beings already classed ; and, in, that case, I should be 
disposed to admit the existence of a gigantic narwhal. 

“The common narwhal, or unicorn of the sea, often attains 
a length of sixty feet. Increase its size fivefold or tenfold, 
give it strength proportionate to its size, lengthen its de- 
structive weapons, and you obtain the animal required. It 
will have the proportions determined by the officers of the 
Shannon, the instrument required by the perforation of the 
Scotia, and the power necessary to pierce the hull of the 
steamer. 

“Indeed, the narwhal is armed with a sort of ivory sword, 
a halberd, according to the expression of certain naturalists. 
The principal tusk has the hardness of steel. Some of these 
tusks have been found buried in the bodies of whales, which 
the unicorn always attacks with success. Others have been 
drawn out, not without trouble, from the bottoms of ships, 
which they had pierced through and through, as a gimlet 
pierces a barrel. The Museum of the Faculty of Medicine of 
Paris possesses one of these defensive weapons, two yards 
and a quarter in length, and fifteen inches in diameter at the 
base. 

“Very well! suppose this weapon to be six times stronger 
and the animal ten times more powerful; launch it at the 
rate of twenty miles an hour, and you obtain a shock capable 
of producing the catastrophe required. Until further infor- 
mation, therefore, I shall maintain it to be a sea-unicorn of 
colossal dimensions, armed not with a halberd, but with a 
real spur, as the armoured frigates, or the ‘rams’ of war, 
whose massiveness and motive power it Avould possess at the 
same time. Thus may this puzzling phenomenon be ex- 
plained, unless there be something over and above all that 
one has ever conjectured, seen, perceived, or experienced; 
which is just within the bounds of possibility.” 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 15 

These last words were cowardly on my part ; but, up to a 
certain point, I wished to shelter my dignity as professor, 
and not give too much cause for laughter to the Americans, 
who laugh well when they do laugh. I reserved for myself a 
way of escape. In effect, however, I admitted the existence of 
the “monster.” My article was warmly discussed, which pro- 
cured it a high reputation. It rallied round it a certain num- 
ber of partisans. The solution it proposed gave, at least, full 
liberty to the imagination. The human mind delights in 
grand conceptions of supernatural beings. And the sea is 
precisely their best vehicle, the only medium through which 
these giants (against which terrestrial animals, such as 
elephants or rhinoceroses, are as nothing) can be produced 
or developed. 

The industrial and commercial papers treated the ques- 
tion chiefly from this point of view. The Shipping and Mer- 
cantile Gazette^ the Lloyd's List, the Packet-Boat, and the 
Maritime and Colonial JR.eview, all papers devoted to insur- 
ance companies which threatened to raise their rates of 
premium, were unanimous on this point. Public opinion had 
been pronounced. The United States were the first in the 
field; and in New York they made preparations for an ex- 
pedition destined to pursue this narwhal. A frigate of great 
speed, the Abraham Lincoln, was put in commission as soon 
as possible. The arsenals were opened to Commander Far- 
ragut, who hastened the arming of his frigate; but, as it 
always happens, the moment it was decided to pursue the 
monster, the monster did not appear. For two months no one 
heard it spoken of. No ship met with it. It seemed as if this 
unicorn knew of the plots weaving around it. It had been so 
much talked of, even through the Atlantic cable, that jesters 
pretended that this slender fly had stopped a telegram on its 
passage and was making the most of it. 

So when the frigate had been armed for a long campaign, 
and provided with formidable fishing apparatus, no one 
could tell what course to pursue. Impatience grew apace, 
when, on the 2nd of July, they learned that a steamer of 
the line of San Francisco, from California to Shanghai, had 


16 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

seen the animal three weeks before in the North Pacific 
Ocean. The excitement caused by this news was extreme. The 
ship was revictualled and well stocked with coal. 

Three hours before the Abraham Lincoln left Brooklyn 
pier, I received a letter worded as follows : 

To M. Aronnax, 

Professor in the Museum of Paris, 

Fifth Avenue Hotel, 

New York. 

Sir, — If you will consent to join the Abraham Lincoln 
in this expedition, the Government of the United States 
will with pleasure see France represented in the enter- 
prise. Commander Farragut has a cabin at your disposal. 
Very cordially yours, 

J. B. Hobson, 

Secretary of Marine. 


CHAPTER III 

I FORM MY RESOLUTION 

Three seconds before the arrival of J. B. Hobson’s letter 
I no more thought of pursuing the unicorn than of attempt- 
ing the passage of the North Sea. Three seconds after read- 
ing the letter of the honourable Secretary of Marine, I felt 
that my true vocation, the sole end of my life, was to chase 
this disturbing monster and purge it from the world. 

But I had just returned from a fatiguing journey, weary 
and longing for repose. I aspired to nothing more than again 
seeing my country, my friends, my little lodging by the 
Jardin des Plantes, my dear and precious collections— but 
nothing could keep me back! I forgot all — fatigue, friends 
and collections — and accepted without hesitation the offer 
of the American Government. 

“Besides,” thought I, “all roads lead back to Europe; 
and the unicorn may be amiable enough to hurry me to- 
wards the coast of France. This worthy animal may allow 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 17 

itself to be caught in the seas of Europe (for my particular 
benefit), and I will not bring back less than half a yard of 
his ivory halberd to the Museum of Natural History.” But 
in the meanwhile I must seek this narwhal in the North 
Pacific Ocean, which, to return to France, was taking the 
road to the antipodes. 

‘‘Conseil,” I called in an impatient voice. 

Conseil was my servant, a true, devoted Flemish boy, who 
had accompanied me in all my travels. I liked him, and he 
returned the liking well. He was quiet by nature, regular 
from principle, zealous from habit, evincing little disturb- 
ance at the different surprises of life, very quick with his 
hands, and apt at any service required of him ; and, despite 
his name, never giving advice — even when asked for it. 

Conseil had followed me for the last ten years wherever 
science led. Never once did he complain of the length or 
fatigue of a journey, never make an objection to pack his 
portmanteau for whatever country it might be, or however 
far away, whether China or Congo. Besides all this, he had 
good health, which defied all sickness, and solid muscles, but 
no nerves ; good morals are understood. This boy was thirty 
years old, and his age to that of his master as fifteen to 
twenty. May I be excused for saying that I was forty years 
old.? 

But Conseil had one fault : he was ceremonious to a degree, 
and would never speak to me but in the third person, which 
w^as sometimes provoking. 

“Conseil,” said I again, beginning with feverish hands to 
make preparations for my departure. 

Certainly I was sure of this devoted boy. As a rule, I never 
asked him if it were convenient for him or not to follow 
me in my travels; but this time the expedition in question 
might be prolonged, and the enterprise might be hazardous 
in pursuit of an animal capable of sinking a frigate as easily 
as a nutshell. Here there was matter for reflection even to the 
most impassive man in the world. What would Conseil say.? 

“Conseil,” I called a third time. 

Conseil appeared. 


18 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

“Did you call, sir?” said he, entering. 

“Yes, my boy; make preparations for me and yourself 
too. We leave in two hours.” 

“As you please, sir,” replied Conseil, quietly. 

“Not an instant to lose; lock in my trunk all travelling 
utensils, coats, shirts, and stockings — without counting, as 
many as you can, and make haste.” 

“And your collections, sir?” observed Conseil. 

“They will keep them at the hotel.” 

“We are not returning to Paris, then?” said Conseil. 

“Oh! certainly,” I answered, evasively, “by making a 
curve.” 

“Will the curve please you, sir?” 

“Oh! it will be nothing; not quite so direct a road, that 
is all. We take our passage in the Ahraham Lincoln.^’ 

“As you think proper, sir,” coolly replied Conseil. 

“You see, my friend, it has to do with the monster — the 
famous narwhal. We are going to purge it from the seas. A 
glorious mission, but a dangerous one! We cannot tell where 
we may go ; these animals can be very capricious. But we 
will go whether or no ; we have got a captain who is pretty 
wide-awake.” 

Our luggage was transported to the deck of the frigate 
immediately. I hastened on board and asked for Commander 
Farragut. One of the sailors conducted me to the poop, 
where I found myself in the presence of a good-looking 
officer, who held out his hand to me. 

“Monsieur Pierre Aronnax?” said he. 

“Himself,” replied I. “Commander Farragut?” 

“You are welcome. Professor; your cabin is ready for 
you.” 

I bowed, and desired to be conducted to the cabin destined 
for me. 

The Ahraham Lincoln had been well chosen and equipped 
for her new destination. She was a frigate of great speed, 
fitted with high-pressure engines which admitted a pressure 
of seven atmospheres. Under this the Ahraham Lincoln at- 
tained the mean speed of nearly eighteen knots and a third 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 19 

an hour — a considerable speed, but, nevertheless, insufficient 
to grapple with this gigantic cetacean. 

The interior arrangements of the frigate corresponded to 
its nautical qualities. I was well satisfied with my cabin, 
which was in the after part, opening upon the gunroom. 

“We shall be well off here,” said I to Conseil. 

“As well, by your honour’s leave, as a hermit-crab in the 
shell of a whelk,” said Conseil. 

I left Conseil to stow our trunks conveniently away, and 
remounted the poop in order to survey the preparations for 
departure. 

At that moment Commander Farragut was ordering the 
last moorings to be cast loose which held the Ahraham Lin- 
coln to the pier of Brooklyn. So in a quarter of an hour, 
perhaps less, the frigate would have sailed without me. I 
should have missed this extraordinary, supernatural, and 
incredible expedition, the recital of which may well meet 
with some suspicion. 

But Commander Farragut would not lose a day nor an 
hour in scouring the seas in which the animal had been 
sighted. He sent for the engineer. 

“Is the steam full on.^” asked he. 

“Yes, sir,” replied the engineer. 

“Go ahead,” cried Commander Farragut. 


CHAPTER IV 

NED LAND 

Captain Farragut was a good seaman, worthy of the 
frigate he commanded. His vessel and he were one. He was 
the soul of it. On the question of the monster there was no 
doubt in his mind,' and he would not allow the existence of 
the animal to be disputed on board. He believed in it, as 
certain good women believe in the leviathan — by faith, not 
by reason. The monster did exist, and he had sworn to rid 
the seas of it. Either Captain Farragut would kill the nar- 


20 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

whal, or the narwhal would kill the captain. There was no 
third course. 

The officers on board shared the opinion of their chief. 
They were ever chatting, discussing, and calculating the 
various chances of a meeting, watching narrowly the vast 
surface of the ocean. More than one took up his quarters 
voluntarily in the cross-trees, who would have cursed such 
a berth under any other circumstances. As long as the sun 
described its daily course, the rigging was crowded with 
sailors, whose feet were burnt to such an extent by the heat 
of the deck as to render it unbearable; still the Abraham 
Lincoln had not yet breasted the suspected waters of the 
Pacific. As to the ship’s company, they desired nothing 
better than to meet the unicorn, to harpoon it, hoist it on 
board, and despatch it. They watched the sea with eager 
attention. 

Besides, Captain Farragut had spoken of a certain sum 
of two thousand dollars, set apart for whoever should first 
sight the monster, were he cabin-boy, common seaman, or 
officer. 

I leave you to judge how eyes were used on board the 
Abraham Lincoln. 

For my own part I was not behind the others, and left 
to no one my share of daily observations. The frigate 
might have been called the Argus ^ for a hundred reasons. 
Only one amongst us, Conseil, seemed to protest by his 
indifference against the question which so interested us all, 
and seemed to be out of keeping with the general enthusiasm 
on board. 

I have said that Captain Farragut had carefully provided 
his ship with every apparatus for catching the gigantic ceta- 
cean. No whaler had ever been better armed. We possessed 
every known engine, from the harpoon thrown by the hand 
to the barbed arrows of the blunderbuss, and the explosive 
balls of the duck-gun. On the forecastle lay the perfection 
of a breech-loading gun, very thick at the breech, and very 
narrow in the bore, the model of which had been in the 
Exhibition of 1867. This precious weapon of American 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 21 

origin could throw with ease a conical projectile of nine 
pounds to a mean distance of ten miles. 

Thus the Ahraham Lincoln wanted for no means of de- 
struction; and, what was better still she had on board Ned 
Land, the prince of harpooners. 

Ned Land was a Canadian, with an uncommon quickness 
of hand, and who knew no equal in his dangerous occupation. 
Skill, coolness, audacity, and cunning he possessed in a 
superior degree, and it must be a cunning whale to escape 
the stroke of his harpoon. 

Ned Land was about forty years of age; he was a tall 
man (more than six feet high), strongly built, grave and 
taciturn, occasionally violent, and very passionate when con- 
tradicted. His person attracted attention, but above all the 
boldness of his look, which gave a singular expression to his 
face. 

Who calls himself Canadian calls himself French; and, 
little communicative as Ned Land was, I must admit that 
he took a certain liking for me. My nationality drew him 
to me, no doubt. It was an opportunity for him to talk, and 
for me to hear, that old language of Rabelais, which is still 
in use in some Canadian provinces. The harpooner’s family 
was originally from Quebec, and was already a tribe of hardy 
fishermen when this town belonged to France. 

Little by little, Ned Land acquired a taste for chatting, 
and I loved to hear the recital of his adventures in the polar 
seas. He related his fishing, and his combats, with natural 
poetry of expression ; his recital took the form of an epic 
poem, and I seemed to be listening to a Canadian Homer 
singing the Iliad of the regions of the North. 

I am portraying this hardy companion as I really knew 
him. We are old friends now, united in that unchangeable 
friendship which is born and cemented amidst extreme dan- 
gers. Ah, brave Ned! I ask no more than to live a hundred 
years longer, that I may have more time to dwell the longer 
on your memory. 

Now, what was Ned Land’s opinion upon the question of 
the marine monster.? I must admit that he did not believe in 
the unicorn, and was the only one on board who did not share 


22 TWENTY THOUSAND TEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

that universal conviction. He even avoided the subject, which 
I one day thought it my duty to press upon him. One mag- 
nificent evening, the 80th July (that is to say, three weeks 
after our departure), the frigate was abreast of Cape Blanc, 
thirty miles to leeward of the coast of Patagonia. We had 
crossed the tropic of Capricorn, and the Straits of Magellan 
opened less than seven hundred miles to the south. Before 
eight days were over the Abraham Lincoln would be plough- 
ing the waters of the Pacific. 

Seated on the poop, Ned Land and I were chatting of one 
thing and another as we looked at this mysterious sea, whose 
great depths had up to this time been inaccessible to the 
eye of man. I naturally led up the conversation to the giant 
unicorn, and examined the various chances of success or 
failure of the expedition. But, seeing that Ned Land let me 
speak without saying too much himself, I pressed him more 
closely. 

“Well, Ned,” said I, “is it possible that you are not con- 
vinced of the existence of this cetacean that we are follow- 
ing.^ Have you any particular reason for being so 
incredulous.?^” 

The harpooner looked at me fixedly for some moments 
before answering, struck his broad forehead with his hand 
(a habit of his), as if to collect himself, and said at last, 
“Perhaps I have, Mr. Aronnax.” 

“But, Ned, you, a whaler by profession, familiarised with 
all the great marine mammalia — you ought to be the last 
to doubt under such circumstances!” 

“That is just what deceives you. Professor,” Teplied 
Ned. “As a whaler I have followed many a cetacean, har- 
pooned a great number, and killed several; but, however 
strong or well-armed they may ^have been, neither their tails 
nor their weapons would have been able even to scratch the 
iron plates of a steamer.” 

“But, Ned, they tell of ships which the teeth of the nar- 
whal have pierced through and through.” 

“Wooden ships — that is possible,” replied the Canadian, 
“but I have never seen it done; and, until further proof, I 


TWENTY THOUSAND TEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 23 

deny that whales, cetaceans, or sea-unicorns could ever pro- 
duce the effect you describe.” 

‘‘Well, Ned, I repeat it with a conviction resting on the 
logic of facts. I believe in the existence of a mammal power- 
fully organised, belonging to the branch of vertebrata, like 
the whales, the cachalots, or the dolphins, and furnished 
with a horn of defence of great penetrating power.” 

“Hum!” said the harpooner, shaking his head with the 
air of a man who would not be convinced. 

“Notice one thing, my worthy Canadian,” I resumed. “If 
such an animal is in existence, if it inhabits the depths of 
the ocean, if it frequents the strata lying miles below the 
surface of the water, it must necessarily possess an organisa- 
tion the strength of which would defy all comparison.” 

“And why this powerful organisation demanded Ned. 

“Because it requires incalculable strength to keep one’s 
self in these strata and resist their pressure. Listen to me. 
Let us admit that the pressure of the atmosphere is repre- 
sented by the weight of a column of water thirty-two feet 
high. In reality the column of water would be shorter, as 
we are speaking of sea water, the density of which is greater 
than that of fresh water. Very well, when you dive, Ned, as 
many times 32 feet of water as there are above you, so many 
times does your body bear a pressure equal to that of the 
atmosphere, that is to say, 15 lb. for each square inch of its 
surface. It follows, then, that at 320 feet this pressure equals 
that of 10 atmospheres, of 100 atmospheres at 3,200 feet, 
and of 1,000 atmospheres at 32,000 feet, that is, about 6 
miles ; which is equivalent to saying that if you could attain 
this depth in the ocean, each square three-eighths of an inch 
of the surface of your body would bear a pressure of 5,600 
lb. Ah! my brave Ned, do you know how many square inches 
you carry on the surface of your body.^” 

“I have no idea, Mr.* Aronnax.” 

“About 6,500 ; and as in reality the atmospheric pressure 
is about 15 lb. to the square inch, your 6,500 square inches 
bear at this moment a pressure of 97,500 lb.” 

“Without my perceiving it.?” 


24 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

“Without your perceiving it. And if you are not crushed 
by such a pressure, it is because the air penetrates the in- 
terior of your body with equal pressure. Hence perfect 
equilibrium between the interior and exterior pressure, whicli 
thus neutralise each other, and which allows you to bear it 
without inconvenience. But in the water it is another thing.” 

“Yes, I understand,” replied Ned, becoming more atten- 
tive; “because the water surrounds me, but does not pene- 
trate.” 

“Precisely, Ned: so that at 32 feet beneath the surface of 
the sea you would undergo a pressure of 97,500 lb. ; at 320 
feet, ten times that pressure ; at 3,200 feet, a hundred times 
that pressure; lastly, at 32,000 feet, a thousand times that 
pressure would be 97,500,000 lb. — ^that is to say, that you 
would be flattened as if you had been drawn from the plates 
of a hydraulic machine !” 

“The devil!” exclaimed Ned. 

“Very well, my worthy harpooner, if some vertebrate, 
several hundred yards long, and large in proportion, can 
maintain itself in such depths — of those whose surface is 
represented by millions of square inches, that is by tens of 
millions of pounds, we must estimate the pressure they 
undergo. Consider, then, what must be the resistance of 
their bony structure, and the strength of their organisation 
to withstand such pressure!” 

“Why!” exclaimed Ned Land, “they must be made of 
iron plates eight inches thick, like the armoured frigates.” 

“As you say, Ned. And think what destruction such a 
mass would cause, if hurled with the speed of an express 
train against the hull of a vessel.” 

“Yes — certainly — perhaps,” replied the Canadian, 

shaken by these figures, but not yet willing to give in. 

“Well, have I convinced you.f^” 

“You have convinced me of one thing, sir, which is that, 
if such animals do exist at the bottom of the seas, they 
must necessarily be as strong as you say.” 

“But if they do not exist, mine obstinate harpooner, how 
explain the accident to the Scotia?'^’* 


TWENTY TH(3uSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA ^5 


CHAPTER V 

AT A VENTURE 

TT HE voyage of the Abraham Lincoln was for a long time 
marked by no special incident. But one circumstance hap- 
pened which showed the wonderful dexterity of Ned Land, 
and proved what confidence we might place in him. 

The 30th of June, the frigate spoke some American 
whalers, from whom we learned that they knew nothing about 
the narwhal. But one of them, the captain of the Monroe, 
knowing that Ned Land had shipped on board the Abraham 
Lincoln, begged for his help in chasing a whale they had in 
sight. Commander Farragut, desirous of seeing Ned Land 
at work, gave him permission to go on board the Monroe. 
And fate served our Canadian so well that, instead of one 
whale, he harpooned two with a double blow, striking one 
straight to the heart, and catching the other after some 
minutes’ pursuit. 

Decidedly, if the monster ever had to do with Ned Land’s 
harpoon, I would not bet in its favour. 

The frigate skirted the south-east coast of America with 
great rapidity. The 3rd of July we were at the opening of 
the Straits of Magellan, level with Cape Vierges. But Com- 
mander Farragut would not take a tortuous passage, but 
doubled Cape Horn. 

The ship’s crew agreed with him. And certainly it was 
possible that they might meet the narwhal in this narrow 
pass. Many of the sailors affirmed that the monster could 
not pass there, ‘‘that he was too big for that !” 

The 6th of July, about three o’clock in the afternoon, the 
Abraham Lincoln, at fifteen miles to the south, doubled the 
solitary island, this lost rock at the extremity of the Ameri- 
can continent, to which some Dutch sailors gave the name 
of their native town. Cape Horn. The course was taken 
towards the north-west, and the next day the screw of the 
frigate was at last beating the waters of the Pacific. 

“Keep your eyes open !” called out the sailors. 

And they were opened widely. Both eyes and glasses, a 


26 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNlDER THE SEA 

little dazzled, it is true, by the prospect of two thousand 
dollars, had not an instant’s repose. 

I myself, for whom money had no charms, was not the 
least attentive on board. Giving but few minutes to my 
meals, but a few hours to sleep, indifferent to either rain or 
sunshine, I did not leave the poop of the vessel. Now leaning 
on the netting of the forecastle, now on the taffrail, I 
devoured with eagerness the soft foam which whitened the 
sea as far as the eye could reach; and how often have I 
shared the emotion of the majority of the crew, when some 
capricious whale raised its black back above the waves ! The 
poop of the vessel was crowded on a moment. The cabins 
poured forth a torrent of sailors and officers, each with heav- 
ing breast and troubled eye watching the course of the ceta- 
cean. I looked and looked till I was nearly blind, whilst 
Conseil kept repeating in a calm voice: 

“If, sir, you would not squint so much, you would see 
better !” 

But vain excitement! The Abraham Lincoln checked its 
speed and made for the animal signalled, a simple whale, 
or common cachalot, which soon disappeared amidst a storm 
of abuse. 

But the weather was good. The voyage was being accom- 
plished under the most favourable auspices. It was then the 
bad season in Australia, the July of that zone correspond- 
ing to our January in Europe, but the sea was beautiful 
and easily scanned round a vast circumference. 

The 20th of July, the tropic of Capricorn was cut by 105° 
of longitude, and the 27th of the same month we crossed 
the Equator on the 110th meridian. This passed, the frigate 
took a more decided westerly direction, and scoured the cen- 
tral waters of the Pacific. Commander Earragut thought, 
and with reason, that it was better to remain in deep water, 
and keep clear of continents or islands, which the beast itself 
seemed to shun (perhaps because there was not enough water 
for him! suggested the greater part of the crew). The 
frigate passed at some distance from the Marquesas and the 
Sandwich Islands, crossed the tropic of Cancer, and made 
for the China Seas. We were on the theatre of the last diver- 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 27 

sions of the monster : and, to say truth, we no longer lived 
on board. The entire ship’s crew were undergoing a nervous 
excitement, of which I can give no idea : they could not eat, 
they could not sleep — ^twenty times a day, a misconception or 
an optical illusion of some sailor seated on the taffrail, would 
cause dreadful perspirations, and these emotions, twenty 
times repeated, kept us in a state of excitement so violent 
that a reaction was unavoidable. 

And truly, reaction soon showed itself. For three months, 
during which a day seemed an age, the Ahraham Lincoln 
furrowed all the waters of the Northern Pacific, running at 
whales, making sharp deviations from her course, veering 
suddenly from one tack to another, stopping suddenly, put- 
ting on steam, and backing ever and anon at the risk of 
deranging her machinery, and not one point of the Japanese 
or American coast was left unexplored. 

The warmest partisans of the enterprise now became its 
most ardent detractors. Reaction mounted from the crew 
to the captain himself, and certainly, had it not been for the 
resolute determination on the part of Captain Farragut, 
the frigate would have headed due southward. This useless 
search could not last much longer. The Ahraham Lincoln 
had nothing to reproach herself with, she had done her best 
to succeed. Never had an American ship’s crew shown more 
zeal or patience; its failure could not be placed to their 
charge — there remained nothing but to return. 

This was represented to the commander. The sailors could 
not hide their discontent, and the service suffered. I will not 
say there was a mutiny on board, but after a reasonable 
period of obstinacy. Captain Farragut (as Columbus did) 
asked for three days’ patience. If in three days the monster 
did not appear, the man at the helm should give three turns 
of the wheel, and the Ahraham Lincoln would make for the 
European seas. 

This promise was made on the 2nd of November. It had 
the effect of rallying the ship’s crew. The ocean was watched 
with renewed attention. Each one wished for a last glance 
in which to sum up his remembrance. Glasses were used with 
feverish activity. It was a grand defiance given to the giant 


28 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

narwhal, and he could scarcely fail to answer the summons 
and “appear.” 

Two days passed, the steam was at half pressure; a thcu- 
sand schemes were tried to attract the attention and stimu- 
late the apathy of the animal in case it should be met in 
those parts. Large quantities of bacon were trailed in the 
wake of the ship, to the great satisfaction (I must say) of 
the sharks. Small craft radiated in all directions round the 
Abraham Lincoln as she lay to, and did not leave a spot of 
the sea unexplored. But the night of the 4th of November 
arrived without the unveiling of this submarine mystery. 

The next day, the 5th of November, at twelve, the delay 
would (morally speaking) expire; after that time. Com- 
mander Farragut, faithful to his promise, was to turn the 
course to the south-east and abandon for ever the northern 
regions of the Pacific. 

The frigate was then in 31° 15' N. lat. and 136° 42' E. 
long. The coast of Japan still remained less than two hun- 
dred miles to leeward. Night was approaching. They had 
just struck eight bells; large clouds veiled the face of the 
moon, then in its first quarter. The sea undulated peaceably 
under the stern of the vessel. 

At that moment I was leaning forward on the starboard 
netting. Conseil, standing near me, was looking straight 
before him. The crew, perched in the ratlines, examined the 
horizon which contracted and darkened by degrees. Officers 
with their night glasses scoured the growing darkness : some- 
times the ocean sparkled under the rays of the moon, which 
darted between two clouds, then all trace of light was lost 
in the darkness. 

In looking at Conseil, I could see he was undergoing a 
little of the general influence. At least I thought so. Perhaps 
for the first time his nerves vibrated to a sentiment of 
curiosity. 

“Come, Conseil,” said I, “this is the last chance of pocket- 
ing the two thousand dollars.” 

“May I be permitted to say, sir,” replied Conseil, “that 
I never reckoned on getting the prize ; and, had the govern- 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 29 

ment of the Union offered a hundred thousand dollars, it 
would have been none the poorer.” 

“^You are right, Conseil. It is a foolish affair after all, and 
one upon which we entered too lightly. What time lost, what 
useless emotions! We should have been back in France six 
months ago.” 

‘‘In your little room, sir,” replied Conseil, “and in your 
museum, sir ; and I should have already classed all your 
fossils, sir. And the Babiroussa would have been installed in 
its cage in the Jardin des Plantes, and have drawn all the 
curious people of the capital I” 

“As you say, Conseil. I fancy we shall run a fair chance 
of being laughed at for our pains.” 

“That’s tolerably certain,” replied Conseil, quietly; “I 
think they will make fun of you, sir. And, must I say 
it .?” 

“Go on, my good friend.” 

“Well, sir, you will only get your deserts.” 

“Indeed !” 

“When one has the honour of being a savant as you are, 
sir, one should not expose one’s self to ” 

Conseil had not time to finish his compliment. In the midst 
of general silence a voice had just been heard. It was the 
voice of Ned Land shouting: 

“Look out there! The very thing we are looking for — 
on our weather beam!” 


CHAPTER VI 

AT FULL STEAM 

At this cry the whole ship’s crew hurried towards the 
harpooner — commander, officers, masters, sailors, cabin- 
boys; even the engineers left their engines, and the stokers 
their furnaces. 

The order to stop her had been given, and the frigate 
now simply went on by her own momentum. The darkness 
was then profound, and, however good the Canadian’s eyes 


30 TWENTY THOUSAND TEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

were, I asked myself how he had managed to see, and what 
he had been able to see. My heart beat as if it would break. 
But Ned Land was not mistaken, and we all perceived the 
object he pointed to. At two cables’ length from the Ahra- 
ham Lincoln^ on the starboard quarter, the sea seemed to be 
illuminated all over. It was not a mere phosphoric phenom- 
enon. The monster emerged some fathoms from the water, 
and then threw out that very intense but mysterious light 
mentioned in the report of several captains. This magnif- 
icent irradiation must have been produced by an agent of 
great shining power. The luminous part traced on the sea an 
immense oval, much elongated, the centre of which con- 
densed a burning heat, whose overpowering brilliancy died 
out by successive. gradations. 

“It is only a massing of phosphoric particles,” cried one 
of the officers. 

“No, sir, certainly not,” I replied. “That brightness is 
of an essentially electrical nature. Besides, see, see ! it moves ; 
it is moving forwards, backwards ; it is darting towards us !” 

A general cry arose from the frigate. 

“Silence!” said the captain. “Up with the helm, reverse 
the engines.” 

The steam was shut off, and the Abraham Lincoln, beat- 
ing to port, described a semicircle. 

“Right the helm, go ahead,” cried the captain. 

These orders were executed, and the frigate moved rapidly 
from the burning light. 

I was mistaken. She tried to sheer off, but the super- 
natural animal approached with a velocity double her own. 

We gasped for breath. Stupefaction more than fear made 
us dumb and motionless. The animal gained on ps, sporting 
with the waves. It made the round of the frigate, which was 
then making fourteen knots, and enveloped it with its electric 
rings like luminous dust. 

Then it moved away two or three miles, leaving a phos- 
phorescent track, like those volumes of steam that the 
express trains leave behind. All at once from the dark linj^ 
of the horizon whither it retired to gain its momentum, the 
monster rushed suddenly towards the Abraham Lincoln with 


TWENTY THOUSAND TEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 31 

alarming' rapidity, stopped suddenly about twenty feet from 
the hull, and died out — not diving under the water, for its 
brilliancy did not abate — but suddenly, and as if the source 
of this brilliant emanation was exhausted. Then it re- 
appeared on the other side of the vessel, as if it had turned 
and slid under the hull. Any moment a collision might have 
occurred which would have been fatal to us. However, I was 
astonished at the manoeuvres of the frigate. She fled and did 
not attack. 

On the captain’s face, generally so impassive, was an ex- 
pression of unaccountable astonishment. 

“Mr. Aronnax,” he said, “I do not know with what for- 
midable being I have to deal, and I will not imprudently risk 
my frigate in the midst of this darkness. Besides, how attack 
this unknown thing, how defend one’s self from it.^^ Wait 
for daylight, and the scene will change.” 

“You have no further doubt, captain, of the nature of 
the animal 

“No, sir; it is evidently a gigantic narwhal, and an 
electric one.” 

“Perhaps,” added I, “one can only approach it with a 
torpedo.” 

“Undoubtedly,” replied the captain, “if it possesses such 
dreadful power, it is the most terrible animal that ever was 
created. That is why, sir, I must be on my guard.” 

The crew were on their feet all night. No one thought of 
sleep. The Abraham Lincoln, not being able to struggle with 
such velocity, had moderated its pace, and sailed at half 
speed. For its part, the narwhal, imitating the frigate, let 
the waves rock it at will, and seemed decided not to leave the 
scene of the struggle. Towards midnight, however, it dis- 
appeared, or, to use a more appropriate term, it “died out” 
like a large glow-worm. Had it fled.? One could only fear, not 
hope it. But at seven minutes to one o’clock in the morning a 
deafening whistling was heard, like that produced by a body 
of water rushing with great violence. 

The captain, Ned Land, and I were then on the poop, 
eagerly peering through the profound darkness. 


32 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

“Ned Land,” asked the commander, “you have often 
heard the roaring of whales?” 

“Often, sir; but never such whales the sight of which 
brought me in two thousand dollars. If I can only approach 
within four harpoons’ length of it!” 

“But to approach it,” said the commander, “I ought to 
put a whaler at your disposal?” 

“Certainly, sir.” 

“That will be trifling with the lives of my men.” 

“And mine too,” simply said the harpooner. 

Towards two o’clock in the morning, the burning light 
reappeared, not less intense, about five miles to windward 
of the Abraham Lincoln. Notwithstanding the distance, 
and the noise of the wind and sea, one heard distinctly the 
loud strokes of the animal’s tail, and even its panting breath. 
It seemed that, at the moment that the enormous narwhal 
had come to take breath at the surface of the water, the air 
was engulfed in its lungs, like the steam in the vast cylinders 
of a machine of two thousand horse-power. 

“Hum!” thought I, “a whale with the strength of a 
cavalry regiment would be a pretty whale !” 

We were on the qui vive till daylight, and prepared for the 
combat. The fishing implements were laid along the ham- 
mock nettings. The second lieutenant loaded the blunder- 
busses, which could throw harpoons to the distance of a 
mile, and long duck-guns, with explosive bullets, which in- 
flicted mortal wounds even to the most terrible animals. Ned 
Land contented himself with sharpening his harpoon — a 
terrible weapon in his hands. 

At six o’clock day began to break; and, with the first 
glimmer of light, the electric light of the narwhal disap- 
peared. At seven o’clock the day was sufficiently advanced, 
but a very thick sea fog obscured our view, and the best spy- 
glasses could not pierce it. That caused disappointment and 
anger. 

I climbed the mizen-mast. Some officers were already 
perched on the mast-heads. At eight o’clock the fog lay 
heavily on the waves, and its thick scrolls rose little by little. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA S3 

The horizon grew wider and clearer at the same time. Sud- 
denly, just as on the day before, Ned Land’s voice was heard : 

“The thing itself on the port quarter!” cried the har- 
pooner. 

Every eye was turned towards the point indicated. There, 
a mile and a half from the frigate, a long blackish body 
emerged a yard above the waves. Its tail, violently agitated, 
produced a considerable eddy. Never did a tail beat the sea 
with such violence. An immense track, of dazzling whiteness, 
marked the passage of the animal, and described a long 
curve. 

The frigate approached the cetacean. I examined it thor- 
oughly. 

The reports of the Shannon and of the Helvetia had 
rather exaggerated its size, and I estimated its length at 
only two hundred and fifty feet. As to its dimensions, I could 
only conjecture them to be admirably proportioned. While I 
watched this phenomenon, two jets of steam and water were 
ejected from its vents, and rose to the height of ISO feet; 
thus I ascertained its way of breathing. I concluded defi- 
nitely that it belonged to the vertebrate branch, class mam- 
malia. 

The crew waited impatiently for their chief’s orders. The 
latter, after having observed the animal attentively, called 
the engineer. The engineer ran to him. 

“Sir,” said the commander, “you have steam up.^^” 

“Yes, sir,” answered the engineer. 

“Well, make up your fires and put on all steam.” 

Three hurrahs greeted this order. The time for the 
struggle had arrived. Some moments after, the two funnels 
of the frigate vomited torrents of black smoke, and the 
bridge quaked under the trembling of the boilers. 

The Abraham Lincoln^ propelled by her wonderful screw, 
went straight at the animal. The latter allowed it to come 
within half a cable’s length; then, as if disdaining to dive, 
it took a little turn, and stopped a short distance off. 

This pursuit lasted nearly three-quarters of an hour, 
without the frigate gaining two yards on the cetacean. It 


84 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

was quite evident that at that rate we should never come 
up with it. 

“Well, Mr. Land,” asked the captain, “do you advise me 
to put the boats out to sea.?” 

“No, sir,” replied Ned Land; “because we shall not take 
that beast easily.” 

“What shall we do then.?” 

“Put on more steam if you can, sir. With your leave, I 
mean to post myself under the bowsprit, and, if we get within 
harpooning distance, I shall throw my harpoon.” 

“Go, Ned,” said the captain. “Engineer, put on more 
pressure.” 

Ned Land went to his post. The fires were increased, the 
screw revolved forty-three times a minute, and the steam 
poured out of the valves. We heaved the log, and calculated 
that the Abraham Lincoln was going at the rate of 18% 
miles an hour. 

But the accursed animal swam at the same speed. 

For a whole hour the frigate kept up this pace, without 
gaining six feet. It was humiliating for one of the swiftest 
sailers in the American navy. A stubborn anger seized the 
crew; the sailors abused the monster, who, as before, dis- 
dained to answer them ; the captain no longer contented him- 
self with twisting his beard — he gnawed it. 

The engineer was called again. 

“You have turned full steam on.?” 

“Yes, sir,” replied the engineer. 

The speed of the Abraham Lincoln increased. Its m.asts 
trembled dovTi to their stepping holes, and the clouds of 
smoke could hardly find way out of the narrow funnels. 

They heaved the log a second time. 

“Well.?” asked the captain of the man at the wheel. 

“Nineteen miles and three-tenths, sir.” 

“Clap on more steam.” 

The engineer obeyed. The manometer showed ten degrees. 
But the cetacean grew warm itself, no doubt; for without 
straining itself, it made 19%o miles. 

What a pursuit! No, I cannot describe the emotion that 
vibrated through me. Ned Land kept his post, harpoon in 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 35 

hand. Several times the animal let us gain upon it. — “We 
shall catch it! we shall catch it!” cried the Canadian. But 
just as he was going to strike, the cetacean stole away with 
a rapidity that could not be estimated at less than thirty 
miles an hour,- and even during our maximum of speed, it 
bullied the frigate, going round and round it. A cry of fury 
broke from everyone ! 

At noon we were no further advanced than at eight o’clock 
in the morning. 

The captain then decided to take more direct means. 

“Ah!” said he, “that animal goes quicker than the Ahra- 
ham Lincoln. Very well! we will see whether it will escape 
these conical bullets. Send your men to the forecastle, sir.” 

The forecastle gun was immediately loaded and slewed 
round. But the shot passed some feet above the cetacean, 
which was half a mile off. 

“Another, more to the right,” cried the commander, “and 
five dollars to whoever will hit that infernal beast.” 

An old gunner with a grey beard — that I can see now — 
with steady eye and grave face, went up to the gun and took 
a long aim. A loud report was heard, with which were mingled 
the cheers of the crew. 

The bullet did its work ; it hit the animal, and, sliding off 
the rounded surface, was lost in two miles depth of sea. 

The chase began again, and the captain, leaning towards 
me, said: 

“I will pursue that beast till my frigate bursts up.” 

“Yes,” answered I ; “and you will be quite right to do it.” 

I wished the beast would exhaust itself, and not be in- 
sensible to fatigue like a steam engine. But it was of no use. 
Hours passed, without its showing any signs of exhaustion. 

However, it must be said in praise of the Abraham Lin- 
coln that she struggled on indefatigably. I cannot reckon 
the distance she made under three hundred miles during this 
unlucky day, November the 6th. But night came on, and 
overshadowed the rough ocean. 

Now I thought our expedition was at an end, and that 
we should never again see the extraordinary animal. I was 
mistaken. At ten minutes to eleven in the evening, the elec- 


36 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

trie light reappeared three miles to windward of the frigate, 
as pure, as intense as during the preceding night. 

The narwhal seemed motionless; perhaps, tired with its 
day’s work, it slept, letting itself float with the undulation 
of the waves. Now was a chance of which the captain re- 
solved to take advantage. 

He gave his orders. The Abraham Lincoln kept up half- 
steam, and advanced cautiously so as not to awake its ad- 
versary. It is no rare thing to meet in the middle of the 
ocean whales so sound asleep that they can be successfully 
attacked, and Ned Land had harpooned more than one dur- 
ing its sleep. The Canadian went to take his place again 
tinder the bowsprit. 

The frigate approached noiselessly, stopped at two cables’ 
lengths from the animal, and following its track. No one 
breathed; a deep silence reigned on the bridge. We were not 
a hundred feet from the burning focus, the light of which 
increased and dazzled our eyes. 

At this moment, leaning on the forecastle bulwark, I saw 
below me Ned Land grappling the martingale in one hand, 
brandishing his terrible harpoon in the other, scarcely 
twenty feet from the motionless animal. Suddenly his arm 
straightened, and the harpoon was thrown; I heard the 
sonorous stroke of the weapon, which seemed to have struck 
a hard body. The electric light went out suddenly, and two 
enormous waterspouts broke over the bridge of the frigate, 
rushing like a torrent from stem to stern, overthrowing men, 
and breaking the lashings of the spars. A fearful shock fol- 
lowed, and, thrown over the rail without having time to stop 
myself, I fell into the sea. 


CHAPTER VII 

AN UNKNOWN SPECIES OF WHALE 

This unexpected fall so stunned me that I have no clear 
recollection of my sensations at the time. I was at flrst drawm 
down to a depth of about twenty feet. I am a good swimmer 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 37 

(though without pretending to rival Byron or Edgar Poe, 
who were masters of the art), and in that plunge I did not 
lose my presence of mind. Two vigorous strokes brought me 
to the surface of the water. My first care was to look for the 
frigate. Had the crew seen me disappear Had the Abraham 
Lincoln veered round Would the captain put out a boat.f^ 
Might I hope to be saved 

The darkness was intense. I caught a glimpse of a black 
mass disappearing in the east, its beacon lights dying out in 
the distance. It was the frigate ! I was lost. 

‘‘Help, help!” I shouted, swimming towards the Abraham 
Lincoln in desperation. 

My clothes encumbered me; they seemed glued to my 
body, and paralysed my movements. 

I was sinking ! I was suffocating ! 

“Help I” 

This was my last cry. My mouth filled with water; I 
struggled against being drawn down the abyss. Suddenly 
my clothes were seized by a strong hand, and I felt myself 
quickly drawn up to the surface of the sea ; and I heard, yes, 
I heard these words pronounced in my ear : 

“If master would be so good as to lean on my shoulder, 
master would swim with much greater ease.” 

I seized with one hand my faithful ConseiPs arm. 

“Is it you.P” said I, “you.?^” 

“Myself,” answered Conseil ; “and waiting master’s 
orders.” 

“That shock threw you as well as me into the sea.^” 

“No; but, being in my master’s service, I followed him.” 

The worthy fellow thought that was but natural. 

“And the frigate.^” I asked. 

“The frigate.^” replied Conseil, turning on his back; “I 
think that master had better not count too much on her.” 

“You think so.^” 

“I say that, at the time I threw myself into the sea, I 
heard the men at the wheel say, ‘The screw and the rudder 
are broken.’ ” 

“Broken.?” 

“Yes, broken by the monster’s teeth. It is the only injury 


38 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

the Abraham Lincoln has sustained. But it is a bad look-out 
for us — she no longer answers her helm.” 

‘‘Then we are lost !” 

“Perhaps so,” calmly answered Conseil. “However, we 
have still several hours before us, and one can do a good deal 
in some hours.” 

Conseil’s imperturbable coolness set me up again. I swam 
more vigorously; but, cramped by my clothes, which stuck 
to me like a leaden weight, I felt great difficulty in bearing 
up. Conseil saw this. 

“Will master let me make a slit.?” said he; and, slipping 
an open knife under my clothes, he ripped them up from 
top to bottom very rapidly. Then he cleverly slipped them 
off me, while I swam for both of us. 

Then I did the same for Conseil, and we continued to swim 
near to each other. 

Nevertheless, our situation was no less terrible. Perhaps 
our disappearance had not been noticed ; and, if it had been, 
the frigate could not tack, being without its helm. Conseil 
argued on this supposition, and laid his plans accordingly. 
This quiet boy was perfectly self-possessed. We then decided 
that, as our only chance of safety was being picked up by 
the Abraham Lincoln's boats, we ought to manage so as to 
wait for them as long as possible. I resolved then to husband 
our strength, so that both should not be exhausted at the 
same time; and this is how we managed: while one of us 
lay on our back, quite still, with arms crossed, and legs 
stretched out, the other would swim and push the other on 
in front. This towing business did not last more than ten 
minutes each ; and relieving each other thus, we could swim 
on for some hours, perhaps till day-break. Poor chance ! but 
hope is so firmly rooted in the heart of man ! Moreover, there 
were two of us. Indeed I declare (though it may seem im- 
probable) if I sought to destroy all hope — if I wished to 
despair, I could not. 

The collision of the frigate with the cetacean had oc- 
curred about eleven o’clock in the evening before. I reckoned 
then we should have eight hours to swim before sunrise, an 
operation quite practicable if we relieved each other. The 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 39 

sea^ very calm, was in our favour. Sometimes I tried to pierce 
the intense darkness that was only dispelled by the phos- 
phorescence caused by our movements. I watched the 
luminous waves that broke over my hand, whose mirror-like 
surface was spotted with silvery rings. One might have said 
that we were in a bath of quicksilver. 

Near one o’clock in the morning, I was seized with dread- 
ful fatigue. My limbs stiffened under the strain of violent 
cramp. Conseil was obliged to keep me up, and our pres- 
ervation devolved on him alone. I heard the poor boy pant; 
his breathing became short and hurried. I found that he 
could not keep up much longer. 

“Leave me! leave me!” I said to him. 

“Leave my master.? Never!” replied he. “I would drown 
first.” 

Just then the moon appeared through the fringes of a 
thick cloud that the wind was driving to the east. The surface 
of the sea glittered with its rays. This kindly light reani- 
mated us. My head got better again. I looked at all points of 
the horizon. I saw the frigate ! She was five miles from us, and 
looked like a dark mass, hardly discernible. But no boats ! 

I would have cried out. But what good would it have been 
at such a distance ! My swollen lips could utter no sounds. 
Conseil could articulate some words, and I heard him repeat 
at intervals, “Help! help!” 

Our movements were suspended for an instant; we lis- 
tened. It might be only a singing in the ear, but it seemed 
to me as if a cry answered the cry from Conseil. 

“Did you hear.?” I murmured. 

“Yes! Yes!” 

And Conseil gave one more despairing cry. 

This time there was no mistake ! A human voice responded 
to ours! Was it the voice of another unfortunate creature, 
abandoned in the middle of the ocean, some other victim of 
the shock sustained by the vessel.? Or rather was it a boat 
from the frigate, that was hailing uS in the darkness.? 

Conseil made a last effort, and, leaning on my shoulder, 
while I struck out in a desperate effort, he raised himself half 
out of the water, then fell back exhausted. 


40 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

‘‘What did you see?” 

“I saw- ” murmured he; “I saw — but do not talk — 

reserve all your strength!” 

What had he seen ? Then, I know not why, the thought of 
the monster came into my head for the first time I But that 
voice! The time is past for Jonahs to take refuge in whales’ 
bellies! However, Conseil was towing me again. He raised 
his head sometimes, looked before us, and uttered a cry of 
recognition, which was responded to by a voice that came 
nearer and nearer. I scarcely heard it. My strength was ex- 
hausted ; my fingers stiffened ; my hand afforded me support 
no longer; my mouth, convulsively opening, filled with salt 
water. Cold crept over me. I raised my head for the last 
time, then I sank. 

At this moment a hard body struck me. I clung to it; 
then I felt that I was being drawn up, that I was brought 
to the surface of the water, that my chest collapsed — I 
fainted. 

It is certain that I soon came to, thanks to the vigorous 
rubbings that I received. I half opened my eyes. 

“Conseil!” I murmured. 

“Does master call me?” asked Conseil. 

Just then, by the waning light of the moon which was 
sinking down to the horizon, I saw a face which was not 
Conseil’s and which I immediately recognised. 

“Ned!” I cried. 

“The same, sir, who is seeking his prize!” replied the 
Canadian. 

“Were you thrown into the sea by the shock to the 
frigate?” 

“Yes, Professor; but more fortunate than you, I was 
able to find a footing almost directly upon a floating island.” 

“An island.?” 

“Or, more correctly speaking, on our gigantic narwhal.” 

“Explain yourself, Ned!” 

“Only I soon found out why my harpoon had not entered 
its skin and was blunted.” 

“Why, Ned, why?” 

“Because, Professor, that beast is made of sheet iron.” 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 41 

The Canadian’s last words produced a sudden revolution 
in my brain. I wriggled myself quickly to the top of the 
being, or object, half out of the water, which served us for 
a refuge. I kicked it. It was evidently a hard, impenetrable 
body, and not the soft substance that forms the bodies of 
the great marine mammalia. But this hard body might be a 
bony covering, like that of the antediluvian animals; and I 
should be free to class this monster among amphibious rep- 
tiles, such as tortoises or alligators. 

Well, no ! the blackish back that supported me was smooth, 
polished, without scales. The blow produced a metallic 
sound ; and, incredible though it may be, it seemed, I might 
say, as if it was made of riveted plates. 

There was no doubt about it! This monster, this natural 
phenomenon that had puzzled the learned world, and over- 
thrown and misled the imagination of seamen of both hemi- 
spheres, it must be owned was a still more astonishing 
phenomenon, inasmuch as it was a simply human construc- 
tion. 

We had no time to lose, however. We were lying upon 
the back of a sort of submarine boat, which appeared (as 
far as I could judge) like a huge fish of steel. Ned Land’s 
mind w^as made up on this point. Conseil and I could only 
agree with him. 

Just then a bubbling began at the back of this strange 
thing (which was evidently propelled by a screw), and it 
began to move. We had only just time to seize hold of the 
upper part, which rose about seven feet out of the water, 
and happily its speed was not great. 

“As long as it sails horizontally,” muttered Ned Land, 
“I do not mind ; but, if it takes a fancy to dive, I would not 
give two straws for my life.” 

The Canadian might have said still less. It became really 
necessary to communicate with the beings, whatever they 
were, shut up inside the machine. I searched all over the 
outside for an aperture, a panel, or a manhole, to use a 
technical expression ; but the lines of the iron rivets, solidly 
driven into the joints of the iron plates, were clear and 


4}^ TWENTY THOUSAND TEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

uniform. Besides, the moon disappeared then, and left us in 
total darkness. 

At last this long night passed. My indistinct remem- 
brance prevents my describing all the impressions it made. 
I can only recall one circumstance. During some lulls of the 
wind and sea, I fancied I heard several times vague sounds, 
a sort of fugitive harmony produced by words of command. 
What was, then, the mystery of this submarine craft, of 
which the whole world vainly sought an explanation.? What 
kind of beings existed in this strange boat ? What mechanical 
agent caused its prodigious speed.? 

Daybreak appeared. The morning mists surrounded us, 
but they soon cleared off. I was about to examine the hull, 
which formed on deck a kind of horizontal platform, when 
I felt it gradually sinking. 

“Oh! confound it!” cried Ned Land, kicking the resound- 
ing plate. “Open, you inhospitable rascals !” 

Happily the sinking movement ceased. Suddenly a noise, 
like iron works violently pushed aside, came from the in- 
terior of the boat. One iron plate was moved, a man ap- 
peared, uttered an odd cry, and disappeared immediately. 

Some moments after, eight strong men, with masked faces, 
appeared noiselessly, and drew us dovm into their formi- 
dable machine. 


CHAPTER VIII 

MOBILIS IN MOBILI 

This forcible abduction, so roughly carried out, was accom- 
plished with the rapidity of lightning. I shivered all over. 
Whom had we to deal with.? No doubt some new sort of 
pirates, who explored the sea in their own way. Hardly had 
the narrow panel closed upon me, when I was enveloped in 
darkness. My eyes, dazzled with the outer light, could dis- 
tinguish nothing. I felt my naked feet cling to the rungs of 
an iron ladder. Ned Land and Conseil, firmly seized, fol- 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 43 

lowed me. At the bottom of the ladder, a door opened, and 
shut after us immediately with a bang*. 

We were alone. Where, I could not say, hardly imagine. 
All was black, and such a dense black that, after some min- 
utes, my eyes had not been able to discern even the faintest 
glimmer. 

Meanwhile, Ned Land, furious at these proceedings, gave 
free vent to his indignation. 

‘‘Confound it !” cried he, “here are people who come up to 
the Scotch for hospitality. They only just miss being can- 
nibals. I should not be surprised at it, but I declare that 
they shall not eat me without my protesting.” 

“Calm yourself, friend Ned, calm yourself,” replied Con- 
seil, quietly. “Do not cry out before you are hurt. We are 
not quite done for yet.” 

“Not quite,” sharply replied the Canadian, “but pretty 
near, at all events. Things look black. Happily, my bowie- 
knife I have still, and I can always see well enough to use it. 
The first of these pirates who lays a hand on me ” 

“Do not excite yourself, Ned,” I said to the harpooner, 
“and do not compromise us by useless violence. Who knows 
that they will not listen to us.? Let us rather try to find out 
where we are.” 

I groped about. In five steps I came to an iron wall, made 
of plates bolted together. Then turning back I struck against 
a wooden table, near which were ranged several stools. The 
boards of this prison were concealed under a thick mat, 
which deadened the noise of the feet. The bare walls revealed 
no trace of window or door. Conseil, going round the reverse 
way, met me, and we went back to the middle of the cabin, 
which measured about twenty feet by ten. As to its height, 
Ned Land, in spite of his own great height, could not 
measure it. 

Half an hour had already passed without our situation 
being bettered, when the dense darkness suddenly gave way 
to extreme light. Our prison was suddenly lighted, that is 
to say, it became filled with a luminous matter, so strong 
that I could not bear it at first. In its whiteness and inten- 
sity I recognised that electric light which played round the 


44 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

submarine boat like a magnificent phenomenon of phos- 
phorescence. After shutting my eyes involuntarily, I opened 
them, and saw that this luminous agent came from a half 
globe, unpolished, placed in the roof of the cabin. 

“At last one can see,” cried Ned Land, who, knife in hand, 
stood on the defensive. 

“Yes,” said I; “but we are still in the dark about our- 
selves.” 

“Let master have patience,” said the imperturbable Con- 
seil. 

The sudden lighting of the cabin enabled me to examine 
it minutely. It only contained a table and five stools. The 
invisible door might be hermetically sealed. No noise was 
heard. All seemed dead in the interior of this boat. Did it 
move, did it float on the surface of the ocean, or did it dive 
into its depths I could not guess. 

A noise of bolts was now heard, the door opened, and two 
men appeared. 

One was short, very muscular, broad-shouldered, with 
robust limbs, strong head, an abundance of black hair, thick 
moustache, a quick penetrating look, and the vivacity which 
characterises the population of Southern France. 

The second stranger merits a more detailed description. 
I made out his prevailing qualities directly: self-confidence 
— because his head was well set on his shoulders, and his 
black eyes looked around with cold assurance; calmness — 
for his skin, rather pale, showed his coolness of blood; 
energy — evinced by the rapid contraction of his lofty brows ; 
and courage — because his deep breathing denoted great 
power of lungs. 

Whether this person was thirty-five or fifty years of age, 
I could not say. He was tall, had a large forehead, straight 
nose, a clearly cut mouth, beautiful teeth, with fine taper 
hands, indicative of a highly nervous temperament. This man 
was certainly the most admirable specimen I had ever met. 
One particular feature was his eyes, rather far from each 
other, and which could take in nearly a quarter of the 
horizon at once. 

This faculty — (I verified it later) — gave him a range of 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 45 

vision far superior to Ned Land’s. When this stranger fixed 
upon an object, his eyebrows met, his large eyelids closed 
around so as to contract the range of his vision, and he 
looked as if he magnified the objects lessened by distance, 
as if he pierced those sheets of water so opaque to our eyes, 
and as if he read the very depths of the seas. 

The two strangers, with caps made from the fur of the 
sea otter, and shod with sea boots of seal’s skin, were dressed 
in clothes of a particular texture, which allowed free move- 
ment of the limbs. The taller of the two, evidently the chief 
on board, examined us with great attention, without saying 
a word ; then, turning to his companion, talked with him in 
an unknown tongue. It was a sonorous, harmonious, and 
flexible dialect, the vowels seeming to admit of very varied 
accentuation. 

The other replied by a shake of the head, and added two 
or three perfectly incomprehensible words. Then he seemed 
to question me by a look. 

I replied in good French that I did not know his lan- 
guage ; but he seemed not to understand me, and my situa- 
tion became more embarrassing. 

“If master were to tell our story,” said Conseil, “perhaps 
these gentlemen may understand some words.” 

I began to tell our adventures, articulating each syllable 
clearly, and without omitting one single detail. I announced 
our names and rank, introducing in person Professor Aron- 
nax, his servant Conseil, and master Ned Land, the har- 
pooner. 

The man with the soft calm eyes listened to me quietly, 
even politely, and with extreme attention; but nothing in 
his countenance indicated that he had understood my story. 
When I finished, he said not a word. 

There remained one resource, to speak English. Perhaps 
they would know this almost universal language. I knew it 
— as well as the German language — well enough to read it 
fluently, but not to speak it correctly. .But, anyhow, we must 
make ourselves understood. 

“Go on in your turn,” I said to the harpooner; “speak 
your best Anglo-Saxon, and try to do better than I.” 


46 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

Ned did not beg off, and recommenced our story. 

To his great disgust, the harpooner did not seem to have 
made himself more intelligible than I had. Our visitors did 
not stir. They evidently understood neither the language of 
England nor of France. 

Very much embarrassed, after having vainly exhausted 
our speaking resources, I knew not what part to take, when 
Conseil said: 

“If master will permit me, I will relate it in German.” 

But in spite of the elegant terms and good accent of the 
narrator, the German language had no success. At last, non- 
plussed, I tried to remember my first lessons, and to narrate 
our adventures in Latin, but with no better success. This 
last attempt being of no avail, the two strangers exchanged 
some words in their unknown language, and retired. 

The door shut. 

“It is an infamous shame,” cried Ned Land, who broke 
out for the twentieth time. “We speak to those rogues in 
French, English, German, and Latin, and not one of them 
has the politeness to answer!” 

“Calm yourself,” I said to the impetuous Ned; “anger 
will do no good.” 

“But do you see. Professor,” replied our irascible com- 
panion, “that we shall absolutely die of hunger in this iron 
cage.^” 

“Bah!” said Conseil, philosophically; “we can hold out 
some time yet.” 

“My friends,” I said, “we must not despair. We have been 
worse off than this. Do me the favour to wait a little before 
forming an opinion upon the commander and crew of this 
boat.” 

“My opinion is formed,” replied Ned Land, sharply. 
“They are rascals.” 

“Good! and from what country 

“From the land of rogues!” 

“My brave Ned, that country is not clearly indicated on 
the map of the world; but I admit that the nationality of 
the two strangers is hard to determine. Neither English, 
French, nor German, that is quite certain. However, I am 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 47 

inclined to think that the commander and his companion 
were born in low latitudes. There is southern blood in them. 
But I cannot decide by their appearance whether they are 
Spaniards, Turks, Arabians, or Indians. As to their lan- 
guage, it is quite incomprehensible.” 

“There is the disadvantage of not knowing all languages,” 
said Conseil, “or the disadvantage of not having one univer- 
sal language.” 

As he said these words, the door opened. A steward en- 
tered. He brought us clothes, coats and trousers, made of 
a stuff I did not know. I hastened to dress myself, and my 
companions followed my example. During that time, the 
steward — dumb, perhaps deaf — had arranged the table, and 
laid three plates. 

“This is something like!” said Conseil. 

“Bah!” said the angry harpooner, “what do you sup- 
pose they eat here.^ Tortoise liver, filleted shark, and beef- 
steaks from seadogs.” 

“We shall see,” said Conseil. 

The dishes, of bell metal, were placed on the table, and 
we took our places. Undoubtedly we had to do with civilised 
people, and, had it not been for the electric light which 
fiooded us, I could have fancied I was in the dining-room of 
the Adelphi Hotel at Liverpool, or at the Grand Hotel in 
Paris. I must say, however, that there was neither bread nor 
wine. The water was fresh and clear, but it was water and 
did not suit Ned Land’s taste. Amongst the dishes which 
were brought to us, I recognised several fish delicately' 
dressed ; but of some, although excellent, I could give nu 
opinion, neither could I tell to what kingdom they belonged, 
whether animal or vegetable. As to the dinner-service, it waj* 
elegant, and in perfect taste. Each utensil — spoon, fork* 
knife, plate — had a letter engraved on it, with a motto above 
it, of wLich this is an exact facsimile: 

MOBILIS IN MOBILI 

N 

The letter N was no doubt the initial of the name of the 
enigmatical person who commanded at the bottom of the seas. 


4)8 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 


Ned and Conseil did not reflect much. They devoured the 
food, and I did likewise. I was, besides, reassured as to our 
fate ; and it seemed evident that our hosts would not let us 
die of want. 

Hciwever, everything has an end, everything passes away, 
even the hunger of people who have not eaten for fifteen 
hours. Our appetites satisfied, we felt overcome with sleep. 

‘‘Faith! I shall sleep well,” said Conseil. 

“So shall I,” replied Ned Land. 

My two companions stretched themselves on the cabin 
carpet, and were soon sound asleep. For my own part, too 
many thoughts crowded my brain, too many insoluble ques- 
tions pressed upon me, too many fancies kept my eyes 
half open. Where were we? What strange power carried 
us on.P I felt — or rather fancied I felt — the machine sink- 
ing down to the lowest beds of the sea. Dreadful nightmares 
beset me; I saw in these mysterious asylums a world of un- 
known animals, amongst which this submarine boat seemed 
to be of the same kind, living, moving, and formidable as 
they. Then my brain grew calmer, my imagination wan- 
dered into vague unconsciousness, and I soon fell into a 
deep sleep. 


CHAPTER IX 

NED land’s tempers 

H ow long we slept I do not know; but our sleep must 
have lasted long, for it rested us completely from our 
fatigues. I woke first. My companions had not moved, and 
were still stretched in their corner. 

Hardly roused from my somewhat hard couch, I felt my 
brain freed, my mind clear. I then began an attentive 
examination of our cell. Nothing was changed inside. The 
prison was still a prison — the prisoners, prisoners. However, 
the steward, during our sleep, had cleared the table. I 
breathed with difficulty. The heavy air seemed to oppress 
my lungs. Although the cell was large, we had evidently 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 49 

consumed a great part of the oxygen that it contained. 
Indeed, each man consumes, in one hour, the oxygen con- 
tained in more than 176 pints of air, and this air, charged 
(as then) with a nearly equal quantity of carbonic acid, 
becomes unbreathable. 

It became necessary to renew the atmosphere of our 
prison, and no doubt the whole in the submarine boat. 
That gave rise to a question in my mind. How would the 
commander of this floating dwelling-place proceed? Would 
he obtain air by chemical means, in getting by heat the 
oxygen contained in chlorate of potash, and in absorb- 
ing carbonic acid by caustic potash ? Or — a more convenient, 
economical, and consequently more probable alternative — 
would he be satisfied to rise and take breath at the surface 
of the water, like a whale, and so renew for twenty-four 
hours the atmospheric provision? 

In fact, I was already obliged to increase my respira- 
tions to eke out of this cell the little oxygen it contained, 
when suddenly I was refreshed by a current of pure air, and 
perfumed with saline emanations. It was an invigorating 
sea breeze, charged with iodine. I opened my mouth wide, 
and my lungs saturated themselves with fresh particles. 

At the same time I felt the boat rolling. The iron-plated 
monster had evidently just risen to the surface of the ocean 
to breathe, after the fashion of whales. I found out from 
that the mode of ventilating the boat. 

When I had inhaled this air freely, I sought the conduit 
pipe, which conveyed to us the beneficial whiff, and I was 
not long in finding it. Above the door was a ventilator, 
through which volumes of fresh air renewed the impoverished 
atmosphere of the cell. 

J was making my observations, when Ned and Conseil 
awoke almost at the same time, under the influence of this 
reviving air. They rubbed their eyes, stretched themselves, 
and were on their feet in an instant. 

“Did master sleep well?” asked Conseil, with his usual 
politeness. 

“Very well, my brave boy. And you, Mr. Land?” 


50 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

“Soundly, Professor. But, I don’t know if I am right or 
not, there seems to be a sea breeze !” 

A seaman could not be mistaken, and I told the Canadian 
all that had passed during his sleep. 

“Good!” said he. “That accounts for those roarings we 
heard, when the supposed narwhal sighted the Abraham 
Lincoln’^ 

“Quite so. Master Land ; it was taking breath.” 

“Only, Mr. Aronnax, I have no idea what o’clock it is, 
unless it is dinner-time.” 

“Dinner-time! my good fellow.^ Say rather breakfast-time, 
for we certainly have begun another day.” 

“So,” said Conseil, “we have slept twenty-four hours 

“That is my opinion.” 

“I will not contradict you,” replied Ned Land. “But, 
dinner or breakfast, the steward will be welcome, whichever 
he brings.” 

“Master Land, we must conform to the rules on board, 
and I suppose our appetites are in advance of the dinner- 
hour.” 

“That is just like you, friend Conseil,” said Ned, im- 
patiently. “You are never out of temper, always calm; 
you would return thanks before grace, and die of hunger 
rather than complain !” 

Time was getting on, and we were fearfully hungry; 
and this time the steward did not appear. It was rather too 
long to leave us, if they really had good intentions towards 
us. Ned Land, tormented by the cravings of hunger, got 
still more angry ; and, notwithstanding his promise, I 
dreaded an explosion when he found himself with one of 
the crew. 

For two hours more Ned Land’s temper increased; he 
cried, he shouted, but in vain. The walls were deaf. There 
was no sound to be heard in the boat ; all was still as death. 
It did not move, for I should have felt the trembling motion 
of the hull under the influence of the screw. Plunged in the 
depths of the waters, it belonged no longer to earth: this 
silence was dreadful. 

I felt terrified, Conseil was calm, Ned Land roarec 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 51 

J ust then a noise was heard outside. Steps sounded on the 
metal flags. The locks were turned, the door opened, and 
the steward appeared. 

Before I could rush forward to stop him, the Canadian 
had thrown him down, and held him by the throat. The 
steward was choking under the grip of his powerful hand. 

Conseil was already trying to unclasp the harpooner’s 
hand from his half-suffocated victim, and I was going to 
fly to the rescue, when suddenly I was nailed to the spot by 
hearing these words in French : 

“Be quiet. Master Land; and you. Professor, will you 
be so good as to listen to me.?^” 


CHAPTER X 

THE MAN OF THE SEAS 

It was the commander of the vessel who thus spoke. 

At these words, Ned Land rose suddenly. The steward, 
nearly strangled, tottered out on a sign from his master. 
But such was the power of the commander on board, that 
not a gesture betrayed the resentment which this man must 
have felt towards the Canadian. Conseil interested in spite 
of himself, I stupefied, awaited in silence the result of this 
scene. 

The commander, leaning against the corner of a table 
with his arms folded, scanned us with profound attention. 
Did he hesitate to speak Did he regret the words which he 
had just spoken in French.^ One might almost think so. 

After some moments of silence, which not one of us 
dreamed of breaking, “Gentlemen,” said he, in a calm and 
penetrating voice, “I speak French, English, German, and 
Latin equally well. I could, therefore, have answered you 
at our first interview, but I wished to know you first, then 
to reflect. The story told by each one, entirely agreeing in 
the main points, convinced me of your identity. I know 
now that chance has brought before me M. Pierre Aronnax, 
Professor of Natural History at the Museum of Paris, 


52 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

entrusted with a scientific mission abroad, Conseil, his serv- 
ant, and Ned Land, of Canadian origin, harpooner on board 
the frigate Abraham Lincoln of the navy of the United 
States of America.” 

I bowed assent. It was not a question that the commander 
put to me. Therefore there was no answer to be made. This 
man expressed himself with perfect ease, without any accent. 
His sentences were well turned, his words clear, and his 
fluency of speech remarkable. Yet, I did not recognise in 
him a fellow-countryman. 

He continued the conversation in these terms : 

“You have doubtless thought, sir, that I have delayed 
long in paying you this second visit. The reason is that, your 
identity recognised, I wished to weigh maturely what part 
to act towards you. I have hesitated much. Most annoying 
circumstances have brought you into the presence of a man 
who has broken all the ties of humanity. You have come to 
trouble my existence.” 

“Unintentionally!” said I. 

“Unintentionally.?” replied the stranger, raising his voice 
a little. “Was it unintentionally that the Abraham Lincoln 
pursued me all over the seas.? Was it unintentionally that 
you took passage in this frigate.? Was it unintentionally 
that your cannon-balls rebounded off the plating of my 
vessel.? Was it unintentionally that Mr.. Ned Land struck me 
with his harpoon .?” 

I detected a restrained irritation in these words. But to 
these recriminations I had a very natural answer to make, 
and I made it. 

“Sir,” said I, “no doubt you are ignorant of the dis- 
cussions which have taken place concerning you in America 
and Europe. You do not know that divers accidents, caused 
by collisions with your submarine machine, have excited 
public feeling in the two continents. I omit the theories 
without number by which it was sought to explain that of 
which you alone possess the secret. But you must under- 
stand that, in pursuing you over the high seas of the Pacific, 
the Abraham Lincoln believed itself to be chasing some 


TWENTY THOUSAND TEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 58 

powerful sea-monster, of which it was necessary to rid the 
ocean at any price.” 

A half-smile curled the lips of the commander: then, in 
a calmer tone : 

“M. Aronnax,” he replied, “dare you affirm that your 
frigate would not as soon have pursued and cannonaded a 
submarine boat as a monster.^” 

This question embarrassed me, for certainly Captain 
Farragut might not have hesitated. He might have thought 
it his duty to destroy a contrivance of this kind, as he would 
a gigantic narwhal. 

“You understand then, sir,” continued the stranger, “that 
I have the right to treat you as enemies.?” 

I answered nothing, purposely. For what good would it 
be to discuss such a proposition, when force could destroy 
the best arguments.? 

“I have hesitated some time,” continued the commander; 
^‘nothing obliged me to show you hospitality. If I chose to 
separate myself from you, I should have no interest in see- 
ing you again ; I could place you upon the deck of this vessel 
which has served you as a refuge, I could sink beneath the 
waters, and forget that you had ever existed. Would not 
that be my right.?” 

“It might be the right of a savage,” I answered, “but not 
that of a civilised man.” 

“Professor,” replied the commander, quickly, “I am not 
what you call a civilised man ! I have done with society en- 
tirely, for reasons which I alone have the right of appre- 
ciating. I do not, therefore, obey its laws, and I desire you 
never to allude to them before me again !” 

This was said plainly. A flash of anger and disdain 
kindled in the eyes of the Unknown, and I had a glimpse of 
a terrible past in the life of this man. Not only had he put 
himself beyond the pale of human laws, but he had made 
himself independent of them, free in the strictest accepta- 
tion of the word, quite beyond their reach! Who then 
would dare to pursue him at the bottom of the sea, when, 
on its surface, he defied all attempts made against him.? 

What vessel could resist the shock of his submarine moni- 


54 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

tor? What cuirass, however thick, could withstand the blows 
of his spur? No man could demand from him an account of 
his actions ; God, if he believed in one — his conscience, if he 
had one — ^were the sole judges to whom he was answerable. 

These reflections crossed my mind rapidly, whilst the 
stranger personage was silent, absorbed, and as if wrapped 
up in himself. I regarded him with fear mingled with inter- 
est, as, doubtless, CEdiphus regarded the Sphinx. 

After rather a long silence, the commander resumed the 
conversation. 

“I have hesitated,” said he, ‘‘but I have thought that my 
interest might be reconciled with that pity to which every 
human being has a right. You will remain on board my 
vessel, since fate has cast you there. You will be free; and, 
in exchange for this liberty, I shall only impose one single 
condition. Your word of honour to submit to it will suffice.” 

“Speak, sir,” I answered. “I suppose this condition is one 
which a man of honour may accept?” 

“Yes, sir; it is this: It is possible that certain events, 
unforeseen, may oblige me to consign you to your cabins 
for some hours or some days, as the case may be. As I desire 
never to use violence, I expect from you, more than all 
the others, a passive obedience. In thus acting, I take all the 
responsibility : I acquit you entirely, for I make it an impos- 
sibility for you to see what ought not to be seen. Do you 
accept this condition?” 

Then things took place on board which, to say the least, 
were singular, and which , ought not to be seen by people 
who were not placed beyond the pale of social laws. Amongst 
the surprises which the future was preparing for me, this 
might not be the least. 

“We accept,” I answered; “only I will ask your permis- 
sion, sir, to address one question to you — one only.” 

“Speak, sir.” 

“You said that we should be free on board.” 

“Entirely.” 

“I ask you, then, what you mean by this liberty?” 

“Just the liberty to go, to come, to see, to observe even 
all that passes here — save under rare circumstances — the 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 55 

liberty, in short, which we enjoy ourselves, my companions 
and I.” 

It was evident that we did not understand one another. 

‘‘Pardon me, sir,” I resumed, “but this liberty is only 
what every prisoner has of pacing his prison. It cannot 
suffice us.” 

“It must suffice you, however.” 

“What! we must renounce for ever seeing our country, 
our friends, our relations again 

“Yes, sir. But to renounce that unendurable worldly yoke 
which men believe to be liberty is not perhaps so painful 
as you think.” 

“Well,” exclaimed Ned Land, “never will I give my 
word of honour not to try to escape.” 

“I did not ask you for your word of honour. Master 
Land,” answered the commander, coldly. 

“Sir,” I replied, beginning to get angry in spite of my- 
self, “you abuse your situation towards us ; it is cruelty.” 

“No, sir, it is clemency. You are my prisoners of war. 
I keep you, when I could, by a word, plunge you into the 
depths of the ocean. You attacked me. You came to surprise 
a secret which no man in the world must penetrate — ^the 
secret of my whole existence. And you think that I am going 
to send you back to that world which must know me no 
more.f^ Never! In retaining you, it is not you whom I guard 
— it is myself.” 

These words indicated a resolution taken on the part of 
the commander, against which no arguments would prevail. 

“So, sir,” I rejoined, “you give us simply the choice be- 
tween life and death.?” 

“Simply.” 

“My friends,” said I, “to a question thus put, there is 
nothing to answer. But no word of honour binds us to the 
master of this vessel.” 

“None, sir,” answered the Unknown. 

Then, in a gentler tone, he continued : . 

“Now, permit me to finish what I have to say to you. I 
know you, M. Aronnax. You and your companions will 
not, perhaps, have so much to complain of in the chance 


56 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

which has bound you to my fate. You will find amongst the 
books which are my favourite study the work which you 
have published on ‘the depths of the sea.’ 1 have often read 
it. You have carried out your work as far as terrestrial 
science permitted you. But you do not know all — you have 
not seen all. Let me tell you then, Professor, that you will 
not regret the time passed on board my vessel. You are 
going to visit the land of marvels.” 

These words of the commander had a great effect upon 
me. I cannot deny it. My weak point was touched; and I 
forgot, for a moment, that the contemplation of these sublime 
subjects was not worth the loss of liberty. Besides, I trusted 
to the future to decide this grave question. So I contented 
myself with saying : 

“By what name ought I to address you ?” 

“Sir,” replied the commander, “I am nothing to you 
but Captain Nemo; and you and your companions are 
nothing to me but the passengers of the Nautilus.^^ 

Captain Nemo called. A steward appeared. The captain 
gave him his orders in that strange language which I did 
not understand. Then, turning towards the Canadian and 
Conseil : 

“A repast awaits you in your cabin,” said he. “Be so 
good as to follow this man. 

“And now, M. Aronnax, our breakfast is ready. Permit 
me to lead the way.” 

“I am at your service. Captain.” 

I followed Captain Nemo; and as soon as I had passed 
through the door, I found myself in a kind of passage 
lighted by electricity, similar to the waist of a ship. After 
we had proceeded a dozen yards, a second door opened 
before me. 

I then entered a dining-room, decorated and furnished 
in severe taste. High oaken sideboards, inlaid with ebony, 
stood at the two extremities of the room, and upon their 
shelves glittered china, porcelain, and glass of inestimable 
value. The plate on the table sparkled in the rays which the 
luminous ceiling shed around, while the light was tempered 
and softened by exquisite paintings. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 57 

In the centre of the room was a table richly laid out.* Cap- 
tain Nemo indicated the place I was to occupy. 

The breakfast consisted of a certain number of dishes, 
the contents of which were furnished by the sea alone; 
and I was ignorant of the nature and mode of preparation 
of some of them. I acknowledged that they were good, but 
they had a peculiar flavour, which I easily became accus- 
tomed to. These different aliments appeared to me to be 
rich in phosphorus, and I thought they must have a marine 
origin. 

Captain Nemo looked at me. I asked him no questions, 
but he guessed my thoughts, and answered of his own accord 
the questions which I was burning to address to him. 

“The greater part of these dishes are unknown to you,” 
he said to me. “However, you may partake of them without 
fear. They are wholesome and nourishing. For a long time 
I have renounced the food of the earth, and I am never ill 
now. My crew, who are healthy, are fed on the same food.” 

“So,” said I, “all these eatables are the produce of the 
sea.?” 

“Yes, Professor, the sea supplies all my wants. Some- 
times I cast my nets in tow, and I draw them in ready to 
break. Sometimes I hunt in the midst of this element, which 
appears to be inaccessible to man, and quarry the game 
which dwells in my submarine forests. My flocks, like those 
of Neptune’s old shepherds, graze fearlessly in the immense 
prairies of the ocean. I have a vast property there, which I 
cultivate myself, and which is always sown by the hand of 
the Creator of all things.” 

“I can understand perfectly, sir, that your nets furnish 
excellent fish for your table ; I can understand also that you 
hunt aquatic game in your submarine forests ; but I cannot 
understand at all how a particle of meat, no matter how 
small, can figure in your bill of fare.” 

“This, wFich you believe to be meat. Professor, is nothing 
else than fillet of turtle. Here are also some' dolphins’ livers, 
which you take to be ragout of pork. My cook is a clever 
fellow, who excels in dressing these various products of 
the ocean. Taste all these dishes. Here is a preserve of 


58 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

sea-cucumber, which a Malay would declare to be unrival] ed 
in the world ; here is a cream, of which the milk has been fur- 
nished by the cetacea, and the sugar by the great fucus of 
the North Sea; and, lastly, permit me to offer you some 
preserve of anemones, which is equal to that of the most 
delicious fruits.” 

I tasted, more from curiosity than as a connoisseur, whilst 
Captain Nemo enchanted me with his extraordinary stories. 

“You like the sea. Captain.?” 

“Yes; I love it! The sea is everything. It covers seven- 
tenths of the terrestrial globe. Its breath is pure and 
healthy. It is an immense desert, where man is never lonely, 
for he feels life stirring on all sides. The sea is only the 
embodiment of a supernatural and wonderful existence. It 
is nothing but love and emotion ; it is the ‘Living Infinite,’ 
as one of your poets has said. In fact. Professor, Nature 
manifests herself in it by her three kingdoms — mineral, 
vegetable, and animal. The sea is the vast reservoir of 
Nature. The globe began with sea, so to speak; and who 
knows if it will not end with it.? In it is supreme tranquillity. 
The sea does not belong to despots. Upon its surface men 
can still exercise unjust laws, fight, tear one another to 
pieces, and be carried away with terrestrial horrors. But 
at thirty feet below its level, their reign ceases, their influ- 
ence is quenched, and their power disappears. Ah ! sir, live — 
live in the bosom of the waters ! There only is independence ! 
There I recognise no masters ! There I am free I” 

Captain Nemo suddenly became silent in the midst of 
this enthusiasm, by which he was quite carried away. For a 
few moments he paced up and down, much agitated. Then 
he became more calm, regained his accustomed coldness of 
expression, and turning towards me : 

“Now, Professor,” said he, “if you wish to go over the 
Nautilusil. am at your service.” 

Captain Nemo rose. I followed him. A double door, con- 
trived at the back of the dining-room, opened, and I entered 
a room equal in dimensions to that which I had just quitted. 

It was a library. High pieces of furniture, of black violet 
ebony inlaid with brass, supported upon their wide shelves 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 59 

a great number of books uniformly bound. They followed 
the shape of the room, terminating at the lower part in huge 
divans, covered with brown leather, which were curved, to 
afford the greatest comfort. Light movable desks, made 
to slide in and out at will, allowed one to rest one’s book 
while reading. In the centre stood an immense table, covered 
with pamphlets, amongst which were some newspapers, 
already of old date. The electric light flooded everything; 
it was shed from four unpolished globes half sunk in the 
volutes of the ceiling. I looked with real admiration at this 
room, so ingeniously fitted up, and I could scarcely believe 
my eyes. 

“Captain Nemo,” said I to my host, who had just thrown 
himself on one of the divans, “this is a library which would 
do honour to more than one of the continental palaces, and 
I am absolutely astounded when I consider that it can follow 
you to the bottom of the seas.” 

“Where could one find greater solitude or silence. Pro- 
fessor replied Captain Nemo. “Did your study in the 
Museum afford you such perfect quiet.?” 

“No, sir ; and I must confess that it is a very poor one after 
yours. You must have six or seven thousand volumes here.” 

“Twelve thousand, M. Aronnax. These are the only 
ties which bind me to the ea'rth. But I had done with the 
world on the day when my Nautilus plunged for the first 
time beneath the waters. That day I bought my last volumes, 
my last pamphlets, my last papers, and from that time I 
wish to think that men no longer think or write. These 
books. Professor, are at your service besides, and you can 
make use of them freely.” 

I thanked Captain Nemo, and went up to the shelves of 
the library. Works on science, morals, and literature 
abounded in every language; but I did not see one single 
work on political economy; that subject appeared to be 
strictly proscribed. Strange to say, all these books were 
irregularly arranged, in whatever language they were 
written; and this medley proved that the Captain of the 
Nautilus must have read indiscriminately the books which 
he took up by chance. 


60 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

‘‘Sir,” said I to the Captain, “I thank you for having 
placed this library at my disposal. It contains treasures of 
science, and I shall profit by them.” 

“This room is not only a library,” said Captain Nemo, 
“it is also a smoking-room.” 

“A smoking-room!” I cried. “Then one may smoke on 
board.?” 

“Certainly.” 

“Then, sir, I am forced to believe that you have kept up 
a communication with Havannah.” 

“Not any,” answered the Captain. “Accept this cigar, 
M. Aronnax ; and, though it does not come from Havannah, 
you will be pleased with it, if you are a connoisseur.” 

I took the cigar which was offered me; its shape recalled 
the London ones, but it seemed to be made of leaves of gold. 
I lighted it at a little brazier, which was supported upon an 
elegant bronze stem, and drew the first whiffs with the delight 
of a lover of smoking who has not smoked for two days. 

“It is excellent, but it is not tobacco.” 

“No!” answered the Captain, “this tobacco comes neither 
from Havannah nor from the East. It is a kind of sea-weed, 
rich in nicotine, with which the sea provides me, but some- 
what sparingly.” 

At that moment Captain Nemo opened a door which stood 
opposite to that by which I had entered the library, and I 
passed into an immense drawing-room splendidly lighted. 

It was a vast, four-sided room, thirty feet long, eighteen 
wide, and fifteen high. A luminous ceiling, decorated with 
light arabesques, shed a soft clear light over all the marvels 
accumulated in this museum. For it was in fact a museum, 
in which an intelligent and prodigal hand had gathered all 
the treasures of nature and art, with the artistic confusion 
which distinguishes a painter’s studio. 

Thirty first-rate pictures, uniformly framed, separated 
by bright drapery, ornamented the walls, which were hung 
with tapestry of severe design. I saw works of great value, 
the greater part of which I had admired in the special 
collections of Europe, and in the exhibitions of paintings. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 61 

Some admirable statues in marble and bronze, after the 
finest antique models, stood upon pedestals in the corners 
of this magnificent museum. Amazement, as the Captain of 
the Nautilus had predicted, had already begun to take 
possession of me. 

“Professor,” said this strange man, “you must excuse the 
unceremonious way in which I receive you, and the disorder 
of this room.” 

“Sir,” I answered, “without seeking to know who you are, 
I recognise in you an artist.” 

“An amateur, nothing more, sir. Formerly I loved to 
collect these beautiful works created by the hand of man. 
I sought them greedily, and ferreted them out indefatigably, 
and I have been able to bring together some objects of 
great value. These are my last souvenirs of that world 
which is dead to me. In my eyes, your modern artists are 
already old ; they have two or three thousand years of 
existence; I confound them in my own mind. Masters have 
no age.” 

Under elegant glass cases, fixed by copper rivets, were 
classed and labelled the most precious productions of the 
sea which had ever been presented to the eye of a naturalist. 
My delight as a professor may be conceived. 

Apart, in separate compartments, were spread out chap- 
lets of pearls of the greatest beauty, which reflected the 
electric light in little sparks of fire; pink pearls, torn from 
the pinna-marina of the Red Sea; green pearls, yellow, 
blue, and black pearls, the curious productions of the divers 
molluscs of every ocean, and certain mussels of the water- 
courses of the North ; lastly, several specimens of inestimable 
value. Some of these pearls were larger than a pigeon’s egg, 
and were worth millions. 

Therefore, to estimate the value of this collection was 
simply impossible. Captain Nemo must have expended mil- 
lions in the acquirement of these various specimens, and I 
was thinking what source he could have drawn from, to have 
been able thus to gratify his fancy for collecting, when I 
was interrupted b}^ these words : 


62 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

“You are examining my shells, Professor? Unquestion- 
ably they must be interesting to a naturalist; but for me 
they have a far greater charm, for I have collected them all 
with my own hand, and there is not a sea on the face of the 
globe which has escaped my researches.” 

“I can understand. Captain, the delight of wandering 
about in the midst of such riches. You are one of those who 
have collected their treasures themselves. No museum in 
Europe possesses such a collection of the produce of the 
ocean. But if I exhaust all my admiration upon it, I shall 
have none left for the vessel which carries it. I do not wish 
to pry into your secrets: but I must confess that this 
Nautilus, with the motive power which is confined in it, the 
contrivances which enable it to be worked, the powerful 
agent vEich propels it, all excite my curiosity to the highest 
pitch. I see suspended on the walls of this room instruments 
of whose use I am ignorant.” 

“You will find these same instruments in my own room. 
Professor, where I shall have much pleasure in explaining 
their use to you. But first come and inspect the cabin 
which is set apart for your own use. You must see how you 
will be accommodated on board the Nautilus’^ 

I followed Captain Nemo who, by one of the doors open- 
ing from each panel of the drawing-room, regained the 
waist. He conducted me towards the bow, and there I found, 
not a cabin, but an elegant room, with a bed, dressing- 
table, and several other pieces of excellent furniture. 

I could only thank my host. 

“Your room adjoins mine,” said he, opening a door, “and 
mine opens into the drawing-room that we have just 
quitted.” 

I entered the Captain’s room: it had a severe, almost a 
monkish aspect. A small iron bedstead, a table, some articles 
for the toilet ; the whole lighted by a skylight. No comforts, 
the strictest necessaries only. 

Captain Nemo pointed to a seat. 

“Be so good as to sit down,” he said. I seated myself, and 
he began thus : 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 63 


CHAPTER XI 

ALL BY ELECTRICITY 

Sir,” said Captain Nemo, showing me the instruments 
hanging on the walls of his room, “here are the contriv- 
ances required for the navigation of the Nautilus. Here, 
a§ in the drawing-room, I have them always under my eyes, 
and they indicate my position and exact direction in the mid- 
dle of the ocean. Some are known to you, such as the ther- 
mometer, which gives the internal temperature of the 
Nautilus'., the barometer, which indicates the weight of the 
air and foretells the changes of the weather; the hygrom- 
eter, which marks the dryness of the atmosphere ; the 
storm-glass, the contents of which, by decomposing, announce 
the approach of tempests; the compass, v/hich guides my 
course ; the sextant, which shows the latitude by the altitude 
of the sun ; chronometers, by which I calculate the longitude ; 
and glasses for day and night, which I use to examine the 
points of the horizon, when the Nautilus rises to the surface 
of the waves.” 

“These are the usual nautical instruments,” I replied, 
“and I know the use of them. But these others, no doubt, 
answer to the particular requirements of the Nautilus. This 
dial with movable needle is a manometer, is it not.?” 

“It is actually a manometer. But by communication with 
the water, whose external pressure it indicates, it gives our 
depth at the same time.” 

“And these other instruments, the use of which I cannot 
guess .?” 

“Here, Professor, I ought to give you some explanations. 
Will you be kind enough to listen to me.?” 

He was silent for a few moments, then he said : 

“There is a powerful agent, obedient, rapid, easy, which 
conforms to every use, and reigns supreme on board my 
v'essel. Everything is done by means of it. It lights, warms 
it, and is the soul of my mechanical apparatus. This agent 
is electricity.” 

“Electricity.?” I cried in surprise. 


64 ) TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Nevertheless, Captain, you possess an extreme rapidity 
of movement, which does not agree well with the power of 
electricity. Until now, its dynamic force has remained under 
restraint, and has only been able to produce a small amount 
of power.” 

“Professor,” said Captain Nemo, “my electricity is not 
everybody’s. You know what sea-water is composed of. In 
a thousand grammes are found 96% cent, of water, and 
about 2 2/8 per cent, of chloride of sodium; then, in a 
smaller quantity, chlorides of magnesium and of potassium, 
bromide of magnesium, sulphate of magnesia, sulphate and 
carbonate of lime. You see, then, that chloride of sodium 
forms a large part of it. So it is this sodium that I extract 
from the sea-water, and of which I compose my ingredients. 
I owe all to the ocean ; it produces electricity, and electricity 
gives heat, light, motion, and, in a word, life to the 
Nautilus.^^ 

“But not the air you breathe.^” 

“Oh! I could manufacture the air necessary for my con- 
sumption, but it is useless, because I go up to the surface of 
the water when I please. However, if electricity does not 
furnish me with air to breathe, it works at least the powerful 
pumps that are stored in spacious reservoirs, and which 
enable me to prolong at need, and as long as I will, my stay 
in the depths of the sea. It gives a uniform and uninter- 
mittent light, which the sun does not. Now look at this 
clock; it is electrical, and goes with, a regularity that defies 
the best chronometers. I have divided it into twenty-four 
hours, like the Italian clocks, because for me there is neither 
night nor day, sun nor moon, but only* that factitious light 
that I take with me to the bottom of the sea. Look! just 
now, it is ten o’clock in the morning.” 

“Exactly.” 

“Another application of electricity. This dial hanging 
in front of us indicates the speed of the Nawtilus. An electric 
thread puts it in communication with the screw, and the 
needle indicates the real speed. Look! now we are spinning 
along with a uniform speed of fifteen miles an hour.” 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 65 

‘‘It is marvelous! And I see, Captain, you were right to 
make use of this agent that takes the place of wind, water, 
and steam.” 

“We have not finished, M. Aronnax,” said Captain Nemo, 
rising. “If you will allow me, we will examine the stern of 
the Nautilus.’’ 

Really, I knew already the anterior part of this submarine 
boat, of which this is the exact division, starting from the 
ship’s head: the dining-room, five yards long, separated 
from the library by a water-tight partition ; the library, five 
yards long; the large drawing-room, ten yards long, sepa- 
rated from the Captain’s room by a second water-tight 
partition; the said room, five yards in length; mine, two 
and a half yards ; and, lastly, a reservoir of air, seven and 
a half yards, that extended to the bows. Total length thirty- 
five yards, or one hundred and five feet. The partitions had 
doors that were shut hermetically by means of india-rubber 
instruments, and they ensured the safety of the Nautilus in 
case of a leak. 

I followed Captain Nemo through the waist, and arrived 
at the centre of the boat. There was a sort of well that 
opened between two partitions. An iron ladder, fastened 
with an iron hook to the partition, led to the upper end. I 
asked the Captain what the ladder was used for. 

“It leads to the small boat,” he said. 

“What! have you a boat.?” I exclaimed, in surprise. 

“Of course; an excellent vessel, light and insubmersible, 
that serves either as a fishing or as a pleasure boat.” 

“But then, when you wish to embark, you are obliged 
to come to the surface of the water.?” 

“Not at all. This boat is attached to the upper part of 
the hull of the Nautilus, and occupies a cavity made for it. 
It is decked, quite water-tight, and held together by solid 
bolts. This ladder leads to a man-hole made in the hull of 
the Nautilus, that corresponds with a similar hole made in 
the side of the boat. By this double opening I get into the 
small vessel. They shut the one belonging to the Nautilus ; 
I shut the other by means of screw pressure. I undo the 
bolts, and the little boat goes up to the surface of the sea 


66 TWENTY THOUSAND TEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

with prodigious rapidity. I then open the panel of the 
bridge, carefully shut till then ; I mast it, hoist my sail, take 
my oars, and I’m off.” 

“But how do you get back on board 

“I do not come back, M. Arronax; the Nautilus comes 
to me.” 

“By your orders.?” 

“By my orders. An electric thread connects us. I tele- 
graph to it, and that is enough.” 

“Really,” I said, astonished at these marvels, “nothing 
can be more simple.” 

After having passed by the cage of the staircase that led 
to the platform, I saw a cabin six feet long, in which Conseil 
and Ned Land, enchanted with their repast, were devouring 
it with avidity. Then a door opened into a kitchen nine feet 
long, situated between the large store-rooms. There electric- 
ity, better than gas itself, did all the cooking. The streams 
under the furnaces gave out to the sponges of platina a heat 
which was regularly kept up and distributed. They also 
heated a distilling apparatus, which, by evaporation, fur- 
nished excellent drinkable water. Near this kitchen was a 
bathroom comfortably furnished, with hot and cold water 
taps. 

Next to the kitchen was the berth-room of the vessel, 
sixteen feet long. But the door was shut, and I could not 
see the management of it, which might have given me an 
idea of the number of men employed on board the Nautilus. 

At the bottom was a fourth partition that separated this 
office from the engine-room. A door opened, and I found 
myself in the compartment where Captain Nemo — cer- 
tainly an engineer of a very high order — ^had arranged his 
locomotive machinery. This engine-room, clearly lighted, 
did not measure less than sixty-five feet in length. It was 
divided into two parts ; the first contained the materials for 
producing electricity, and the second the machinery that 
connected it with the screw. I examined it with great in- 
terest, in order to understand the machinery of the Nautilus. 

“You see,” said the Captain, “I use Bunsen’s contriv- 
ances. not Ruhmkorff’s. Those would not have been power ^ 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 67 

ful enough. Bunsen’s are fewer in number, but strong and 
large, which experience proves to be the best. The elec- 
tricity produced passes forward, where it works, by electro- 
magnets of great size, on a system of levers and cog-wheels 
that transmit the movement to the axle of the screw. This 
one, the diameter of which is nineteen feet, and the thread 
twenty-three feet, performs about 120 revolutions in a 
second.” 

“And you get then.?” 

“A speed of fifty miles an hour.” 

“I have seen the Nautilus manoeuvre before the Abraham 
Lincoln^ and I have my own ideas as to its speed. But this 
is not enough. We must see where we go. We must be able 
to direct it to the right, to the left, above, below. How do 
you get to the great depths, where you find an increasing 
resistance, which is rated by hundreds of atmospheres.? How 
do you return to the surface of the ocean.? And how do you 
maintain yourselves in the requisite medium.? Am I asking 
too much.?” 

“Not at all. Professor,” replied the Captain, with some 
hesitation ; “since you may never leave this submarine boat. 
Come into the saloon, it is our usual study, and there you 
will learn all you want to know about the Nautilus.’^ 


CHAPTER XII 

SOME FIGURES 

A MOMENT after we were seated on a divan in the saloon 
smoking. The Captain showed me a sketch that gave the 
plan, section, and elevation of the Nautilus. Then he began 
his description in these words : 

“Here, M. Aronnax, are the several dimensions of the 
boat you are in. It is an elongated cylinder with conical 
ends. It is very like a cigar in shape, a shape already 
adopted in London in several constructions of the same 
sort. The length of this cylinder, from stem to stern, is 
exactly 232 feet, and its maximum breadth is twenty-six 


68 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

feet. It is not built quite like your long-voyage steamers, 
but its lines are sufficiently long, and its curves prolonged 
enough, to allow the water to slide off easily, and oppose no 
obstacle to its passage. These two dimensions enable you 
to obtain by a simple calculation the surface and cubic 
contents of the Nautilus. Its area measures 6,032 feet ; and 
its contents about 1,500 cubic yards ; that is to say, when 
completely immersed it displaces 50,000 feet of water, or 
weighs 1,500 tons. 

‘‘When I made the plans for this submarine vessel, I 
meant that nine-tenths should be submerged: consequently 
it ought only to displace nine-tenths of its bulk, that is to 
say, only to weigh that number of tons. I ought not, there- 
fore, to have exceeded that weight, constructing it on the 
aforesaid dimensions. 

“The Nautilus is composed of two hulls, one inside, the 
other outside, joined by T-shaped irons, which render it 
very strong. Indeed, owing to this cellular arrangement it 
resists like a block, as if it were solid. Its sides cannot yield ; 
it coheres spontaneously, and not by the closeness of its 
rivets; and its perfect union of the materials enables it to 
defy the roughest seas. 

“These two hulls are composed of steel plates, whose 
density is from .7 to .8 that of water. The first is not less 
than two inches and a half thick and weighs 394 tons. The 
second envelope, the keel, twenty inches high and ten thick, 
weighs only sixty-two tons. The engine, the ballast, the 
several accessories and apparatus appendages, the parti- 
tions and bulkheads, weigh 961.62 tons. Do you follow all 
this.?” 

“I do.” 

“Then, when the Nautilus is afloat under these circum- 
stances, one-tenth is out of the water. Now, if I have made 
reservoirs of a size equal to this tenth, or capable of holding 
150 tons, and if I fill them with water, the boat, weighing 
then 1,507 tons, will be completely immersed. That would 
happen. Professor. These reservoirs are in the lower part 
of the Nautilus. I turn on taps and they fill, and the vessel 
sinks that had just been level with the surface.” 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 69 

“Well, Captain, but now we come to the real difficulty. 
I can understand your rising to the surface; but, diving 
below the surface, does not your submarine contrivance en- 
counter a pressure, and consequently undergo an upward 
thrust of one atmosphere for every thirty feet of water, just 
about fifteen pounds per square inch?” 

“Just so, sir.” 

“Then, unless you quite fill the Nautilus, I do not see how 
you can draw it down to those depths.” 

“Professor, you must not confound statics with dynam- 
ics or you will be exposed to grave errors. There is very 
little labour spent in attaining the lower regions of the 
ocean, for all bodies have a tendency to sink. When I 
wanted to find out the necessary increase of weight required 
to sink the Nautilus, I had only to calculate the reduction 
of volume that sea-water acquires according to the depth.” 

“That is evident.” 

“Now, if water is not absolutely incompressible, it is at 
least capable of very slight compression. Indeed, after the 
most recent calculations this reduction is only .000486 of 
an atmosphere for each thirty feet of depth. If we want to 
sink 8,000 feet, I should keep account of the reduction of 
bulk under a pressure equal to that of a column of water 
of a thousand feet. The calculation is easily verified. Now, 
I have supplementary reservoirs capable of holding a hun- 
dred tons. Therefore I can sink to a considerable depth. 
When I wish to rise to the level of the sea, I only let off the 
water, and empty all the reservoirs if I want the Nautilus 
to emerge from the tenth part of her total capacity.” 

I had nothing to object to these reasonings. 

“I admit your calculations. Captain,” I replied ; “I should 
be wrong to dispute them since daily experience confirms 
them; but I foresee a real difficulty in the way.” 

“What, sir?” 

“When you are about 1,000 feet deep, the walls of the 
Nautilus bear a pressure of 100 atmospheres. If, then, just 
now you were to empty the supplementary reservoirs, to 
lighten the vessel, and to go up to the surface, the pumps 


70 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

must overcome the pressure of 100 atmospheres, which is 
1,500 lbs. per square inch. From that a power ” 

“That electricity alone can give,” said the Captain, hast- 
ily. “I repeat, sir, that the dynamic power of my engines 
is almost infinite. The pumps of the Nautilus have an 
enormous power, as you must have observed when their jets 
of water burst like a torrent upon the Ahraham Lincoln. 
Besides, I use subsidiary reservoirs only to attain a mean 
depth of 750 to 1,000 fathoms, and that with a view of 
managing my machines. Also, when I have a mind to visit 
the depths of the ocean five or six miles below the surface, 
I make use of slower but not less infallible means.” 

“What are they. Captain 

“That involves my telling you how the NautUus is 
worked.” 

“I am impatient to learn.” 

“To steer this boat to starboard or port, to turn, in a 
word, following a horizontal plan, I use an ordinary rudder 
fixed on the back of the stern-post, and with one wheel and 
some tackle to steer by. But I can also make the Nautilus 
rise and sink, and sink and rise, by a vertical movement by 
means of two inclined planes fastened to its sides, opposite 
the centre of flotation, planes that move in every direction, 
and that are worked by powerful levers from the interior. 
If the planes are kept parallel with the boat, it moves 
horizontally. If slanted, the Nautilus, according to this in- 
clination, and under the influence of the screw, either sinks 
diagonally or rises diagonally as it suits me. And even if I 
wish to rise more quickly to the surface, I ship the screw, 
and the pressure of the water causes the Nautilus to rise 
vertically like a balloon filled with hydrogen.” 

“Bravo, Captain! But how can the steersman follow the 
route in the middle of the waters 

“The steersman is placed in a glazed box, that is raised 
about the hull of the Nautilus, and furnished with lenses.” 

“Are these lenses capable of resisting such pressure.^” 

“Perfectly. Glass, which breaks at a blow, is, neverthe- 
less, capable of offering considerable resistance. During 
some experiments of fishing by electric light in 1864 in the 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 71 

Northern Seas, we saw plates less than a third of an inch 
thick resist a pressure of sixteen atmospheres. Now, the 
glass that I use is not less than thirty times thicker.” 

“Granted. But, after all, in order to see, the light must 
exceed the darkness, and in the midst of the darkness in the 
water, how can you see.^” 

“Behind the steersman’s cage is placed a powerful elec- 
tric reflector, the rays from which light up the sea for half 
a mile in front.” 

“Ah! bravo, bravo. Captain! Now I can account for 
this phosphorescence in the supposed narwhal that puzzled 
us so. I now ask you if the boarding of the Nautilus and of 
the Scotia, that has made such a noise, has been the result 
of a chance rencontre?'^'* 

“Quite accidental, sir. I was sailing only one fathom be- 
low the surface of the water when the shock came. It had 
no bad result.” 

“None, sir. But now, about your rencontre with the 
Abraham Lincoln?^^ 

“Professor, I am sorry for one of the best vessels in the 
American navy; but they attacked me, and I was bound to 
defend myself. I contented myself, however, with putting 
the frigate hors de combat; she will not have any difficulty 
in getting repaired at the next port.” 

“Ah, Commander ! your Nautilus is certainly a marvellous 
boat.” 

“Yes, Professor ; and I love it as if it were part of myself. 
If danger threatens one of your vessels on the ocean, the 
first impression is the feeling of an abyss above and below. 
On the Nautilus men’s hearts never fail them. No defects to 
be afraid of, for the double shell is as firm as iron; no rig- 
ging to attend to ; no sails for the wind to carry away ; no 
boilers to burst; no fire to fear, for the vessel is made of 
iron, not of wood ; no coal to run short, for electricity is the 
only mechanical agent; no collision to fear, for it alone 
swims in deep water; no tempest to brave, for when it 
dives below the water it reaches absolute tranquillity. There,, 
sir! that is the perfection of vessels! And if it is true that 
the engineer has more confidence in the vessel than thp 


72 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

builder, and the builder than the captain himself, you un- 
derstand the trust I repose in my Nautilus'^ for I am at 
once captain, builder, and engineer.” 

“But how could you construct this wonderful Nautilus 
in secret 

“Each separate portion, M. Aronnax, was brought from 
different parts of the globe.” 

“But these parts had to be put together and arranged.^” 

“Professor, I had set up my workshops upon a desert 
island in the ocean. There my workmen, that is to say, the 
brave men that I instructed and educated, and myself have 
put together our Nautilus, Then, when the work was fin- 
ished, fire destroyed all trace of our proceedings on this 
island, that I could have jumped over if I had liked.” 

“Then the cost of this vessel is great .^” 

“M. Aronnax, an iron vessel costs £45 per ton. Now the 
Nautilus weighed 1,500. It came therefore to £67,500, and 
£80,000 more for fitting it up, and about £200,000, with 
the works of art and the collections it contains.” 

“One last question. Captain Nemo.” 

“Ask it. Professor.” 

“You are rich.?” 

“Immensely rich, sir; and I could, without missing it, 
pay the national debt of France.” 

I stared at the singular person who spoke thus. Was he 
playing upon my credulity.? The future would decide that. 


CHAPTER XIII 

THE BLACK RIVER 

TT HE portion of the terrestrial globe which is covered by 
water is estimated at upwards of eighty millions of acres. 
This fluid mass comprises two billions two hundred and 
fifty millions of cubic miles, forming a spherical body of a 
diameter of sixty leagues, the weight of which would be 
three quintillions of tons. To comprehend the meaning of 
these figures, it is necessary to observe that a quintillion is 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 7^ 

to a billion as a billion is to unity ; in other words, there are 
as many billions in a quintillion as there are units in a 
billion. This mass of fluid is equal to about the quantity of 
water which would be discharged by all the rivers of the 
earth in forty thousand years. 

During the geological epochs the ocean originally pre- 
vailed everywhere. Then by degrees, in the silurian period, 
the tops of the mountains began to appear, the islands 
emerged, then disappeared in partial deluges, reappeared, 
became settled, formed continents, till at length the earth 
became geographically arranged, as we see in the present 
day. The solid had wrested from the liquid thirty-seven 
million six hundred and fifty-seven square miles, equal to 
twelve billions nine hundred and sixty millions of acres. 

The shape of continents allows us to divide the waters 
into five great portions: the Arctic or Frozen Ocean, the 
Antarctic or Frozen Ocean, the Indian, the Atlantic, and 
the Pacific Oceans. 

The Pacific Ocean extends from north to south between 
the two Polar Circles, and from east to west between Asia 
and America, over an extent of 145 degrees of longitude. 
It is the quietest of seas; its currents are broad and slow, 
it has medium tides, and abundant rain. Such was the 
ocean that my fate destined me first to travel over under 
these strange conditions. 

“Sir,” said Captain Nemo, “we will, if you please, take 
our bearings and fix the starting-point of this voyage. It is 
a quarter to twelve ; I will go up again to the surface.” 

The Captain pressed an electric clock three times. The 
pumps began to drive the water from the tanks; the needle 
of the manometer marked by a different pressure the ascent 
of the Nautilus, then it stopped. 

“We have arrived,” said the Captain. 

I went to the central staircase which opened on to the 
platform, clambered up the iron steps, and found myself on 
the upper part of the Nautilus, 

The platform was only three feet out of water. The front 
and back of the Nautilus was of that spindle-shape which 
caused it justly to be compared to a cigar. I noticed that its 


74 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

iron plates, slightly overlaying each other, resembled the 
shell which clothes the bodies of our large teriestrial rep- 
tiles. It explained to me how natural it was, in spite of all 
glasses, that this boat should have been taken for a marine 
animal. 

Toward the middle of the platform the longboat, half 
buried in the hull of the vessel, formed a slight excrescence. 
Tore and aft rose two cages of medium height with inclined 
sides, and partly closed by thick lenticular glasses ; one 
destined for the steersman who directed the Nautilus, the 
other containing a brilliant lantern to give light on the 
road. 

The sea was beautiful, the sky pure. Scarcely could the 
long vehicle feel the broad undulations of the ocean. A 
light breeze from the east rippled the surface of the waters. 
The horizon, free from fog, made observation easy. Nothing 
was in sight. Not a quicksand, not an island. A vast desert. 

Captain Nemo, by the help of his sextant, took the alti- 
tude of the sun, which ought also to give the latitude. He 
waited for some moments till its disc touched the horizon. 
Whilst taking observations not a muscle moved, the instru- 
ment could not have been more motionless in a hand of 
marble. 

“Twelve o’clock, sir,” said he. “When you like ” 

I cast a last look upon the sea, slightly yellowed by the 
Japanese coast, and descended to the saloon. 

“And now, sir, I leave you to your studies,” added the 
Captain; “our course is E.N.E., our depth is twenty-six 
fathoms. Here are maps on a large scale by which you may 
follow it. The saloon is at your disposal, and, with your 
permission, I will retire.” Captain Nemo bowed, and I 
remained alone, lost in thoughts all bearing on the com- 
mander of the Nautilus, 

For a whole hour was I deep in these reflections, seeking 
to pierce this mystery so interesting to me. Then my eyes 
fell upon the vast planisphere spread upon the table, and I 
placed my finger on the very spot where the given latitude 
and longitude crossed. 

The sea has its large rivers like the continents. They are 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 75 

special currents known by their temperature and their 
colour. The most remarkable of these is known by the name 
of the Gulf Stream. Science has decided on the globe the 
direction of five principal currents: one in the North At- 
lantic, a second in the South, a third in the North Pacific, 
a fourth in the South, and a fifth in the Southern Indian 
Ocean. It is even probable that a sixth current existed at 
one time or another in the Northern Indian Ocean, when 
the Caspian and Aral Seas formed but one vast sheet of 
water. 

At this point indicated on the planisphere one of these 
currents was rolling, the Kuro-Scivo of the Japanese, the 
Black River, which, leaving the Gulf of Bengal, where it is 
warmed by the perpendicular rays of a tropical sun, crosses 
the Straits of Malacca along the coast of Asia, turns into 
the North Pacific to the Aleutian Islands, carrying with it 
trunks of camphor-trees and other indigenous productions, 
and edging the waves of the ocean with the pure indigo of 
its warm water. It was this current that the Nautilus was to 
follow. I followed it with my eye; saw it lose itself in the 
vastness of the Pacific, and felt myself drawn with it, when 
Ned Land and Conseil appeared at the door of the saloon. 

My two brave companions remained petrified at the 
sight of the wonders spread before them. 

‘‘Where are we, where are we.?” exclaimed the Canadian. 
“In the museum at Quebec.?” 

“My friends,” I answered, making a sign for them to 
enter, “you are not in Canada, but on board the Nautilus y 
fifty yards below the level of the sea.” 

“But, M. Aronnax,” said Ned Land, “can you tell me 
how many men there are on board.? Ten, twenty, fifty, a 
hundred.?” 

“I cannot answer you, Mr. Land ; it is better to abandon 
for a time all idea of seizing the Nautilus or escaping from 
it. This ship is a masterpiece of modern industry, and I 
should be sorry not to have seen it. Many people would 
accept the situation forced upon us, if only to move amongst 
such wonders. So be quiet and let us try and see what 
passes around us.” 


76 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

“See !” exclaimed the harpooner, “but we can see noth- 
ing in this iron prison! We are walking — we are sailing — 
blindly.” 

Ned Land had scarcely pronounced these words when 
all was suddenly darkness. The luminous ceiling was gone, 
and so rapidly that my eyes received a painful impression. 

We remained mute, not stirring, and not knowing what 
surprise awaited us, whether agreeable or disagreeable. A 
sliding noise was heard: one would have said that panels 
were working at the sides of the Nautilus. 

“It is the end of the end!” said Ned Land. 

Suddenly light broke at each side of the saloon, through 
two oblong openings. The liquid mass appeared vividly lit 
up by the electric gleam. Two crystal plates separated us 
from the sea. At first I trembled at the thought that this 
frail partition might break, but strong bands of copper 
bound them, giving an almost infinite power of resistance. 

The sea was distinctly visible for a mile all round the 
Nautilus. What a spectacle! What pen can describe it? Who 
could paint the effects of the light through those transparent 
sheets of water, and the softness of the successive gradations 
from the lower to the superior strata of the ocean 

We know the transparency of the sea and that its clear- 
ness is far beyond that of rock-water. The mineral and 
organic substances which it holds in suspension heightens 
its transparency. In certain parts of the ocean at the 
Antilles, under seventy-five fathoms of water, can be seen 
with surprising clearness a bed of sand. The penetrating 
power of the solar rays does not seem to cease for a depth 
of one hundred and fifty fathoms. But in this middle fluid 
travelled over by the Nautilus^ the electric brightness was 
produced even in the bosom of the waves. It was no longer 
luminous water, but liquid light. 

On each side a window opened into this unexplored abyss. 
The obscurity of the saloon showed to advantage the bright- 
ness outside, and we looked out as if this pure crystal had 
been the glass of an immense aquarium. 

“You wished to see, friend Ned; well, you see now.” 

“Curious! curious!” mutterM the Canadian, who, for 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 77 

getting his ill-temper, seemed to submit to some irresistible 
attraction ; “and one would come further than this to admire 
such a sight!” 

“Ah!” thought I to myself, “I understand the life of 
this man ; he has made a world apart for himself, in which 
he treasures all his greatest wonders.” 

For two whole hours an aquatic army escorted the Nau- 
tilus. During their games, their bounds, while rivalling each 
other in beauty, brightness, and velocity, I distinguished 
the green labre ; the banded mullet, marked by a double line 
of black ; the round-tailed goby, of a white colour, with vio- 
let spots on the back; the Japanese scombrus, a beautiful 
mackerel of these seas, with a blue body and silvery head; 
the brilliant azurors, whose name alone defies description; 
some banded spares, with variegated fins of blue and yellow ; 
the woodcocks of the seas, some specimens of which attain 
a yard in length; Japanese salamanders, spider lampreys, 
serpents six feet long, with eyes small and lively, and a huge 
mouth bristling with teeth ; with many other species. 

Our imagination was kept at its height, interjections 
followed quickly on each other. Ned named the fish, and 
Conseil classed them. I was in ecstasies with the vivacity 
of their movements and the beauty of their forms. Never 
had it been given to me to surprise these animals, alive 
and at liberty, in their natural element. I will not mention 
all the varieties which passed before my dazzled eyes, all 
the collection of the seas of China and Japan. These fish, 
more numerous than the birds of the air, came, attracted, 
no doubt, by the brilliant focus of the electric light. 

Suddenly there was daylight in the saloon, the iron panels 
closed again, and the enchanting vision disappeared. But 
for a long time I dreamt on, till my eyes fell on the instru- 
ments hanging on the partition. The compass still showed 
the course to be E.N.E., the manometer indicated a pres- 
sure of five atmospheres, equivalent to a depth of twenty- 
five fathoms, and the electric log gave a speed of fifteen 
miles an hour. I expected Captain Nemo, but he did not 
appear. The clock marked the hour of five. 

Ned Land and Conseil returned to their cabin, and I 


78 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

retired to my chamber. My dinner was ready. It was com- 
posed of turtle soup made of the most delicate hawks- 
bills, of a surmullet served with puff paste (the liver of 
which, prepared by itself, was most delicious), and fillets 
of the emperor-holocanthus, the savour of which seemed to 
me superior even to salmon. 

I passed the evening reading, writing, and thinking. Then 
sleep overpowered me, and I stretched myself on my couch 
of zostera, and slept profoundly, whilst the Nautilus was 
gliding rapidly through the current of the Black River. 


CHAPTER XIV 

A NOTE OF INVITATION 

TT HE next day was the 9th of November. I awoke after a 
long sleep of twelve hours. Conseil came, according to 
custom, to know “how I passed the night,” and to offer 
his services. He had left his friend the Canadian sleeping 
like a man who had never done anything else all his life. 
I let the worthy fellow chatter as he pleased, without caring 
to answer him. I was preoccupied by the absence of the 
Captain during our sitting of the day before, and hoping to 
see him to-day. 

As soon as I was dressed I went into the saloon. It was 
deserted. I plunged into the study of the shell treasures 
hidden behind the glasses. 

The whole day passed without my being honoured by a 
visit from Captain Nemo. The panels of the saloon did not 
open. Perhaps they did not wish us to tire of these beautiful 
things. 

The course of the Nautilus was E.N.E., her speed twelve 
knots, the depth below the surface between twenty-five and 
thirty fathoms. 

The next day, 10th of November, the same desertion, 
the same solitude. I did not see one of the ship’s crew: Ned 
and Conseil spent the greater part of the day with me. They 
were astonished at the puzzling absence of the Captain. Was 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 79 

this singular man ill? — ^had he altered his intentions with 
regard to us? 

After all, as Conseil said, we enjoyed perfect liberty, we 
were delicately and abundantly fed. Our host kept to his 
terms of the treaty. We could not complain, and, indeed, 
the singularity of our fate reserved such wonderful compen- 
sation for us that we had no right to accuse it as yet. 

That day I commenced the journal of these adventures 
which has enabled me to relate them with more scrupulous 
exactitude and minute detail. 

11th November, early in the morning. The fresh air 
spreading over the interior of the Nautilus told me that we 
had come to the surface of the ocean to renew our supply 
of oxygen. I directed my steps to the central staircase, and 
mounted the platform. 

It was six o’clock, the weather was cloudy, the sea grey, 
but calm. Scarcely a billow. Captain Nemo, whom I hoped 
to meet, would he be there? I saw no one but the steersman 
imprisoned in his glass cage. Seated upon the projection 
formed by the hull of the pinnace, I inhaled the salt breeze 
with delight. 

By degrees the fog disappeared under the action of the 
sun’s rays, the radiant orb rose from behind the eastern 
horizon. The sea flamed under its glance like a train of 
gunpowder. The clouds scattered in the heights were 
coloured with lively tints of beautiful shades, and numerous 
“mare’s tails,” which betokened wind for that day. But 
what was wind to this Nautilus, which tempests could not 
frighten ! 

I was admiring this joyous rising of the sun, so gay, and 
so life-giving, when I heard steps approaching the platform. 
I was prepared to salute Captain Nemo, but it was his 
second (whom I had already seen on the Captain’s first 
visit) who appeared. He advanced on the platform, not 
seeming to see me. With his powerful glass to his eye, he 
scanned every point of the horizon with great attention. 
This examination over, he approached the panel and pro- 
nounced a sentence in exactly these terms. I have remem- 


80 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

bered it, for every morning it was repeated under exactly 
the same conditions. It was thus worded : 

“Nautron respoc lorni virch.” 

What it meant I could not say. 

These words pronounced, the second descended. I thought 
that the Nautilus was about to return to its submarine 
navigation. I regained the panel and returned to my 
chamber. 

Five days sped thus, without any change in our situation. 
Every morning I mounted the platform. The same phrase 
was pronounced by the same individual. But Captain Nemo 
did not appear. 

I had made up my mind that I should never see him 
again, when, on the 16th November, on returning to my 
room with Ned and Conseil, I found upon my table a note 
addressed to me. I opened it impatiently. It was written 
in a bold, clear hand, the characters rather pointed, recall- 
ing the German type. The note was worded as follows : 

To Professor Aronnax, 

On board the Nautilus, 

16tli of November, 1867. 

Captain Nemo invites Professor Aronnax to a hunting- 
party, which will take place to-morrow morning in the 
forests of the Island of Crespo. He hopes that nothing 
will prevent the Professor from being present, and he will 
with pleasure see him joined by his companions. 

Captain Nemo, 
Commander of the Nautilus, 

“A hunt !” exclaimed Ned. 

“And in the forests of the Island of Crespo !” added Con- 
seil. 

“Oh! then the gentleman is going on terra firma?^’ replied 
Ned Land. 

“That seems to me to be clearly indicated,” said I, read- 
ing the letter once more. 

“Well, we must accept,” said the Canadian. “But once 
more on dry ground, we shall know what to do. Indeed, I 
shall not be sorry to eat a piece of fresh venison.” 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 81 

Without seeking to reconcile what was contradictory 
between Captain Nemo’s manifest aversion to islands and 
continents, and his invitation to hunt in a forest, I contented 
myself with replying: 

‘‘Let us first see where the Island of Crespo is.” 

I consulted the planisphere, and in 40' N. lat. and 
157° 50' W. long., I found a small island, recognised in 
1801 by Captain Crespo, and marked in the ancient Span- 
ish maps as Rocca de la Plata, the meaning of which is 
The Silver Rock. We were then about eighteen hundred 
miles from our starting-point, and the course of the 
Nautilus^ a little changed, was bringing it back towards the 
southeast. 

I showed this little rock, lost in the midst of the North 
Pacific, to my companions. 

“If Captain Nemo does sometimes go on dry ground,” 
said I, “he at least chooses desert islands.” 

Ned Land shrugged his shoulders without speaking, and 
Conseil and he left me. 

After supper, which was served by the steward, mute 
and impassive, I went to bed, not without some anxiety. 

The next morning, the 17th of November, on aw^akening, 
I felt that the Nautilus was perfectly still. I dressed quickly 
and entered the saloon. 

Captain Nemo was there, waiting for me. He rose, bowed, 
and asked me if it was convenient for me ‘ to accompany 
him. As he made no allusion to his absence during the last 
eight days, I did not mention it, and simply answered that 
my companions and myself were ready to follow him. 

We entered the dining-room, where breakfast w^as served. 

“M. Aronnax,” said the Captain, “pray, share my break- 
fast without ceremony; we will chat as we eat. For, though 
I promised you a walk in the forest, I did not undertake 
to find hotels there. Bo breakfast as a man who will most 
likely not have his dinner till very late.” 

I did honour to the repast. It was composed of several 
kinds of fish, and slices of sea-cucumber, and different sorts 
of seaweed. Our drink consisted of pure water, to which 
the Captain added some drops of a fermented liquor, ex- 


82 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

tracted by the Kamschatcha method from a seaweed known 
under the name of Rhodomenia palmata. Captain Nemo 
ate at first without saying a word. Then he began : 

“Sir, when I proposed to you to hunt in my submarine 
forest of Crespo, you evidently thought me mad. Sir, you 
should never judge lightly of any man.” 

“But Captain, believe me- ” 

“Be kind enough to listen, and you will then see whether 
you have any cause to accuse me of folly and contradiction.” 

“I listen.” 

“You know as well as I do. Professor, that man can live 
under water, providing he carries with him a sufficient 
supply of breathable air. In submarine works, the workman, 
clad in an impervious dress, with his head in a metal helmet, 
receives air from above by means of forcing pumps and 
regulators.” 

“That is a diving apparatus,” said I. 

“Just so, but under these conditions the man is not at 
liberty; he is attached to the pump which sends him air 
through an india-rubber tube, and if we were obliged to be 
thus held to the Nautilus^ we could not go far.” 

“And the means of getting free.?” I asked. 

“It is to use the Bouquayrol apparatus, invented by 
two of your own countrymen, which I have brought to per- 
fection for my own use, and which will allow you to risk 
yourself under these new physiological conditions without 
any organ whatever suffering. It consists of a reservoir of 
thick iron plates, in which I store the air under a pressure 
of fifty atmospheres. This reservoir is fixed on the back by 
means of braces, like a soldier’s knapsack. Its upper part 
forms a box in which the air is kept by means of a bellows, 
and therefore cannot escape unless at its normal tension. 
In the Bouquayrol apparatus such as we use, two india- 
rubber pipes leave this box and join a sort of tent which 
holds the nose and mouth; one is to introduce fresh air,, 
the other to let out the foul, and the tongue closes one or 
the other according to the wants of the respirator. But I, 
in encountering great pressures at the bottom of the sea, 
was obliged to shut my head, like that of a diver in a ball 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 83 

of copper ; and it is to this ball of copper that the two pipes, 
the inspirator and the expirator, open.” 

“Perfectly, Captain Nemo; but the air that you carry 
with you must soon be used; when it only contains fifteen 
per cent, of oxygen it is no longer fit to breathe.” 

“Right ! But I told you, M. Aronnax, that the pumps of 
the Nautilus allow me to store the air under considerable 
pressure, and on those conditions the reservoir of the ap- 
paratus can furnish breathable air for nine or ten hours.” 

“I have no further objections to make,” I answered. “I 
will only ask you one thing. Captain — how can you light 
your road at the bottom of the sea.?” 

“With the Ruhmkorff apparatus, M. Aronnax; one is 
carried on the back, the other is fastened to the waist. It 
is composed of a Bunsen pile, which I do not work with 
bichromate of potash, but with sodium. A wire is introduced 
which collects the electricity produced, and directs it towards 
a particularly made lantern. In this lantern is a spiral 
glass which contains a small quantity of carbonic gas. When 
the apparatus is at work this gas becomes luminous, giving 
out a white and continuous light. Thus provided, I can 
breathe and I can see.” 

“Captain Nemo, to all my objections you make such 
crushing answers that I dare no longer doubt. But, if I 
am forced to admit the Rouquayrol and Ruhmkorff ap- 
paratus, I must be allowed some reservations with regard 
to the gun I am to carry.” 

“But it is not a gun for powder,” answered the Captain. 

“Then it is an air-gun.” 

“Doubtless! How would you have me manufacture gun- 
powder on board, without either saltpetre, sulphur, or char- 
coal.?” 

“Besides,” I added, “to fire under water in a medium eight 
hundred and fifty-five times denser than the air, we must 
conquer very considerable resistance.” 

“That would be no difficulty. There exist guns, according 
to Fulton, perfected in England by Philip Coles and Burley, 
in France by Furcy, and in Italy by Landi, which are 
furnished with a peculiar system of closing, which can fire 


84 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

under these conditions. But I repeat, having no powder, 
I use air under great pressure, which the pumps of the 
Nautilus furnish abundantly.” 

“But this air must be rapidly used.^” 

“Well, have I not my Rouquayrol reservoir, which can 
furnish it at need.^^ A tap is all that is required. Besides 
M. Aronnax, you must see yourself that, during our sub- 
marine hunt, we can spend but little air and but few balls.” 

“But it seems to me that in this twilight, and in the 
midst of this fluid, which is very dense compared with the 
atmosphere, shots could not go far, nor easily prove mortal.” 

“Sir, on the contrary, with this gun every blow is mortal ; 
and, however lightly the animal is touched, it falls as if 
struck by a thunderbolt.” 

“Why.?” 

“Because the balls sent by this gun are not ordinary balls, 
but little cases of glass. These glass cases are covered with 
a case of steel, and weighted with a pellet of lead; they are 
real Leyden bottles, into which the electricity is forced to 
a very high tension. With the slightest shock they are dis- 
charged, and the animal, however strong it may be, falls 
dead. I must tell you that these cases are size number four, 
and that the charge for an ordinary gun would be ten.” 

“I will argue no longer,” I replied, rising from the table. 
“I have nothing left me but to take my gun. At all events, 
I will go where you go.” 

Captain Nemo then led me aft; and in passing before 
Ned’s and Conseil’s cabin, I called my two companions,, 
who followed promptly. We then came to a cell near the 
machinery-room, in which we put on our walking-dress. 


CHAPTER XV 

A WALK ON THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA 

T„,s cell was, to speak correctly, the arsenal and ward- 
robe of the Nautilus. A dozen diving apparatuses hung 
from the partition waiting our use. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 85 

Ned Land, on seeing them, showed evident repugnance 
to dress himself in one. 

‘‘But, my worthy Ned, the forests of the Island of Crespo 
are nothing but submarine forests.” 

“Good!” said the disappointed harpooner, who saw his 
dreams of fresh meat fade away. “And you, M. Aronnax, 
are you going to dress yourself in those clothes.?” 

“There is no alternative. Master Ned.” 

“As you please, sir,” replied the harpooner, shrugging 
his shoulders; “but, as for me, unless I am forced, I will 
never get into one.” 

“No one will force you. Master Ned,” said Captain Nemo. 

“Is Conseil going to risk it.?” asked Ned. 

“I follow my master wherever he goes,” replied Conseil. 

At the Captain’s call two of the ship’s crew came to help 
us dress in these heavy and impervious clothes, made of 
india-rubber without seam, and constructed expressly to 
resist considerable pressure. One would have thought it a 
suit of armour, both supple and resisting. This suit formed 
trousers and waistcoat. The trousers were finished off with 
thick boots, weighted with heavy leaden soles. The texture 
of the waistcoat was held together by bands of copper, 
which crossed the chest, protecting it from the great pres- 
sure of the water, and leaving the lungs free to act; the 
sleeves ended in gloves, which in no way restrained the move- 
ment of the hands. There was a vast difference noticeable 
between these consummate apparatuses and the old cork 
breastplates, jackets, and other contrivances in vogue dur- 
ing the eighteenth century. 

Captain Nemo and one of his companions (a sort of 
Hercules, who must have possessed great strength), Conseil 
and myself were soon enveloped in the dresses. There re- 
mained nothing more to be done but to enclose our heads 
in the metal box. But, before proceeding to this operation, 
I asked the Captain’s permission to examine the guns. 

One of the Nautilus men gave me a simple gun, the butt 
end of which, made of steel, hollow in the centre, was 
rather large. It served as a reservoir for compressed air, 
which a valve, worked by a spring, allowed to escape into 


86 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

a metal tube. A box of projectiles in a groove in the thick- 
ness of the butt end contained about twenty of these electric 
balls, which, by means of a spring, were forced into the 
barrel of the gun. As soon as one shot was fired, another 
was ready. 

“Captain Nemo,” said I, “this arm is perfect, and easily 
handled: I only ask to be allowed to try it. But how shall 
we gain the bottom of the sea.?” 

“At this moment. Professor, the Nautilus is stranded in 
five fathoms, and we have nothing to do but to start.” 

“But how shall we get off.?” 

“You shall see.” 

Captain Nemo thrust his head into the helmet, Conseil 
and I did the same, not without hearing an ironical “Good 
sport!” from the Canadian. The upper part of our dress 
terminated in a copper collar upon which was screwed the 
metal helmet. Three holes, protected by thick glass, allowed 
us to see in all directions, by simply turning our head in 
the interior of the head-dress. As soon as it was in position, 
the Rouquayrol apparatus on our backs began to act; and, 
for my part, I could breathe with ease. 

With the Ruhmkorff lamp hanging from my belt, and 
the gun in my hand, I was ready to set out. But to speak 
the truth, imprisoned in these heavy garments, and glued 
to the deck by my leaden soles, it was impossible for me to 
take a step. 

But this state of things was provided for. I felt myself 
being pushed into a little room contiguous to the wardrobe- 
room. My companions followed, towed along in the same 
way. I heard a water-tight door, furnished with stopper- 
plates, close upon us, and we were wrapped in profound 
darkness. 

After some minutes, a loud hissing was heard. I felt the 
cold mount from my feet to my chest. Evidently from some 
part of the vessel they had, by means of a tap, given entrance 
to the water, which was invading us, and with which the 
room was soon filled. A second door cut in the side of the 
Nautilus then opened. We saw a faint light. In another 
instant our feet trod the bottom of the sea. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 87 

And now, liow can I retrace the impression left upon 
me by that walk under the waters? Words are impotent 
to relate such wonders! Captain Nemo walked in front, 
his companion followed some steps behind. Conseil and 
I remained near each other, as if an exchange of words had 
been possible through our metallic cases. I no longer felt 
the weight of my clothing, or of my shoes, of my reservoir 
of air, or my thick helmet, in the midst of which my head 
rattled like an almond in its shell. 

The light, which lit the soil thirty feet below the surface 
of the ocean, astonished me by its power. The solar rays 
shone through the watery mass easily, and dissipated all 
colour, and I clearly distinguished objects at a distance of 
a hundred and fifty yards. Beyond that the tints darkened 
into fine gradations of ultramarine, and faded into vague 
obscurity. Truly this water which surrounded me was but 
another air denser than the terrestrial atmosphere, but al- 
most as transparent. Above me was the calm surface of 
the sea. We were walking on fine, even sand, not wrinkled, 
as on a flat shore, which retains the impression of the 
billows. This dazzling carpet, really a reflector, repelled 
the rays of the sun with wonderful intensity, which 
accounted for the vibration which penetrated every atom of 
liquid. Shall I be believed when I say that, at the depth of 
thirty feet, I could see as if I was in broad daylight? 

For a quarter of an hour I trod on this sand, sown with 
the impalpable dust of shells. The hull of the Nautilus^ 
resembling a long shoal, disappeared by degrees; but its 
lantern, when darkness should overtake us in the waters, 
would help to guide us on board by its distinct rays. 

Soon forms of objects outlined in the distance were 
discernible. I recognised magnificent rocks, hung with a 
tapestry of zoophites of the most beautiful kind, and I was 
at first struck by the peculiar effect of this medium. 

It was then ten in the morning ; the rays of the sun struck 
the surface of the waves at rather an oblique angle, and at 
the touch of their light, decomposed by refraction as through 
a prism, flowers, rocks, plants, shells, and polypi were shaded 
at the edges by the seven solar colours. It was marvellous. 


88 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

a feast for the eyes, this complication' of coloured tints, a 
perfect kaleidoscope of green, yellow, orange, violet, indigo, 
and blue; in one word, the whole palette of an enthusiastic 
colourist ! Why could I not communicate to Conseil the lively 
sensations which were mounting to my brain, and rival him 
in expressions of admiration? For aught I knew. Captain 
Nemo and his companion might be able to exchange 
thoughts by means of signs previously agreed upon. So, for 
want of better, I talked to myself ; I declaimed in the copper 
box which covered my head, thereby expending more air 
in vain words than was perhaps wise. 

Various kinds of isis, clusters of pure tuft-coral, prickly 
fungi, and anemones formed a brilliant garden of flowers, 
decked with their collarettes of blue tentacles, sea-stars 
studding the sandy bottom. It was a real grief to me to 
crush under my feet the brilliant specimens of molluscs 
which strewed the ground by thousands, of hammerheads, 
donaciae (veritable bounding shells), of staircases, and red 
helmet-shells, angel-wings, and many others produced by 
this inexhaustible ocean. But we were bound to walk, so 
we went on, whilst above our heads waved medusae whose 
umbrellas of opal or rose-pink, escalloped with a band of 
blue, sheltered us from the rays of the sun and fiery pelagiae, 
which, in the darkness, would have strewn our path with 
phosphorescent light. 

All these wonders I saw in the space of a quarter of a 
mile, scarcely stopping, and following Captain Nemo, who 
beckoned me on by signs. Soon the nature of the soil 
changed; to the sandy plain succeeded an extent of slimy 
mud which the Americans call “ooze,” composed of equal 
parts of silicious and calcareous shells.* We then travelled 
over a plain of seaweed of wild and luxuriant vegetation. 
This sward was of close texture, and soft to the feet, and 
rivalled the softest carpet woven by the hand of man. But 
whilst verdure was spread at our feet, it did not abandon 
our heads. A light network of marine plants, of that in- 
exhaustible family of seaweeds of which more than two 
thousand kinds are known, grew on the surface of the water. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 89 

I noticed that the green plants kept nearer the top of the 
sea, whilst the red were at a greater depth, leaving to the 
black or brown the care of forming gardens and parterres 
in the remote beds of the ocean. 

We had quitted the Nautilus about an hour and a half. 
It was near noon; I knew by the perpendicularity of the 
sun’s rays, which were no longer refracted. The magical 
colours disappeared by degrees, and the shades of emerald 
and -sapphire were effaced. We walked with a regular step, 
which rang upon the ground with astonishing intensity; 
the slightest noise was transmitted with a quickness to which 
the ear is unaccustomed on the earth; indeed, water is a 
better conductor of sound than air, in the ratio of four to 
one. At this period the earth sloped downwards; the light 
took a uniform tint. We were at a depth of a hundred and 
five yards and twenty inches, undergoing a pressure of six 
atmospheres. 

At this depth I could still see the rays of the sun, though 
feebly; to their intense brilliancy had succeeded a reddish 
twilight, the lowest state between day and night; but we 
could still see well enough; it was not necessary to resort 
to the Ruhmkorff aparatus as yet. At this moment Captain 
Nemo stopped; he waited till I joined him, and then pointed 
to an obscure mass, looming in the shadow, at a short 
distance. 

‘Tt is the forest of the Island of Crespo,” thought I ; and 
I was not mistaken. 


CHATTER XVI 

A SUBMARINE FOREST 

W E HAD at last arrived on the borders of this forest, doubt- 
less one of the finest of Captain Nemo’s immense domains. 
He looked upon it as his own, and considered he had the 
same right over it that the first men had in the first days of 
the world. And, indeed, who would have disputed with him 
the possession of this submarine property What other 


90 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

hardier pioneer would come, hatchet in hand, to cut down 
the dark copses? 

This forest was composed of large tree-plants; and the 
moment we penetrated under its vast arcades, I was struck 
by the singular position of their branches — a position I had 
not yet observed. 

Not an herb which carpeted the ground, not a branch 
which clothed the trees, was either broken or bent, nor did 
they extend horizontally; all stretched up to the surface 
of the ocean. Not a filament, not a ribbon, however thin 
they might be, but kept as straight as a rod of iron. The 
fuci and llianas grew in rigid perpendicular lines, due to the 
density of the element which had produced them. Motion- 
less yet, when bent to one side by the hand, they directly 
resumed their former position. Truly it was the region of 
perpendicularity ! 

I soon accustomed myself to this fantastic position, as 
well as to the comparative darkness which surrounded us. 
The soil of the forest seemed covered with sharp blocks, 
difficult to avoid. The submarine flora struck me as being 
very perfect, and richer even than it would have been in 
the arctic or tropical zones, where these productions are not 
so plentiful. But for some minutes I involuntarily con- 
founded the genera, taking animals for plants; and who 
would not have been mistaken? The fauna and the flora are 
too closely allied in this submarine world. 

These plants are self-propagated, and the principle of 
their existence is in the water, which upholds and nourishes 
them. The greater number, instead of leaves, shoot forth 
blades of capricious shapes, comprised within a scale of 
colours pink, carmine, green, olive, fawn, and brown. 

“Curious anomaly, fantastic element!” said an ingenious 
naturalist, “in which the animal kingdom blossoms, and the 
vegetable does not!” 

In about an hour Captain Nemo gave the signal to halt. 
I, for my part, was not sorry, and we stretched ourselves 
under an arbour of alariae, the long thin blades of which 
stood up like arrows. 

This short rest seemed delicious to me ; there was nothing 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 91 

wanting but the charm of conversation ; but, impossible to 
speak, impossible to answer, I only put my great copper 
head to Conseil’s. I saw the worthy fellow’s eyes glistening 
with delight, and, to show his satisfaction, he shook him- 
self in his breastplate of air, in the most comical way in the 
world. 

After four hours of this walking, I was surprised not to 
find myself dreadfully hungry. How to account for this 
state of the stomach I could not tell. But instead I felt an 
insurmountable desire to sleep, which happens to all divers. 
And my eyes soon closed behind the thick glasses, and I 
fell into a heavy slumber, which the movement alone had 
prevented before. Captain Nemo and his robust companion, 
stretched in the clear crystal, set us the example. 

How long I remained buried in this drowsiness I cannot 
judge, but, when I woke, the sun seemed sinking towards 
the horizon. Captain Nemo had already risen, and I was 
beginning to stretch my limbs, when an unexpected appari- 
tion brought me briskly to my feet. 

A few steps off, a monstrous sea-spider, about thirty- 
eight inches high, was watching me with squinting eyes, 
ready to spring upon me. Though my diver’s dress was 
thick enough to defend me from the bite of this animal, I 
could not help shuddering with horror. Conseil and the 
sailor of the Nautilus awoke at this moment. Captain Nemo 
pointed out the hideous crustacean, which a blow from the 
butt end of the gun knocked over, and I saw the horrible 
claws of the monster writhe in terrible convulsions. This 
incident reminded me that other animals more to be feared 
might haunt these obscure depths, against whose attacks 
my diving-dress would not protect me. I had never thought 
of it before, but I now resolved to be upon my guard. Indeed, 
I thought that this halt would mark the termination of our 
walk; but I was mistaken, for, instead of returning to the 
Nautilus, Captain Nemo continued his bold excursion. The 
ground was still on the incline, its declivity seemed to be 
getting greater, and to be leading us to greater depths. It 
must have been about three o’clock when we reached a nar- 
row valley, between high perpendicular walls, situated about 


92 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

seventy-five fathoms deep. Thanks to the perfection of oui- 
apparatus, we were forty-five fathoms below the limit whicli 
nature seems to have imposed on man as to his submarine 
excursions. 

I say seventy-five fathoms, though I had no instrument 
by which to judge the distance. But I knew that even in 
the clearest waters the solar rays could not penetrate 
further. And accordingly the darkness deepened. At ten 
paces not an object was visible. I was groping my way, when 
I suddenly saw a brilliant white light. Captain Nemo had 
just put his electric apparatus into use; his companion did 
the same, and Conseil and I followed their example. By turn- 
ing a screw I established a communication between the wire 
and the spiral glass, and the sea, lit by our four lanterns, 
was illuminated for a circle of thirty-six yards. 

As we walked I thought the light of our Ruhmkorff ap- 
paratus could not fail to draw some inhabitant from its 
dark couch. But if they did approach us, they at least 
kept at a respectful distance from the hunters. Several 
times I saw Captain Nemo stop, put his gun to his shoulder, 
and after some moments drop it and walk on. At last, 
after about four hours, this marvellous excursion came to 
an end. A wall of superb rocks, in an imposing mass, rose 
before us, a heap of gigantic blocks, an enormous, steep 
granite shore, forming dark grottos, but which presented 
no practicable slope; it was the prop of the Island of 
Crespo. It was the earth ! Captain Nemo stopped suddenly. 
A gesture of his brought us all to a halt; and, however 
desirous I might be to scale the wall, I was obliged to stop. 
Here ended Captain Nemo’s domains. And he would not 
go beyond them. Further on was a portion of the globe he 
might not trample upon. 

The return began. Captain Nemo had returned to the 
head of his little band, directing their course without hesita- 
tion. I thought we were not following the same road to 
return to the Nautilus. The new road was very steep, and 
consequently very painful. We approached the surface of 
the sea rapidly. But this return to the upper strata was not 
so sudden as to cause relief from the pressure too rapidly. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 93 

which might have produced serious disorder in our organisa- 
tion, and brought on internal lesions, so fatal to divers. 
Very soon light reappeared and grew, and, the sun being 
low on the horizon, the refraction edged the different objects 
with a spectral ring. At ten yards and a half deep, we walked 
amidst a shoal of little fishes of all kinds, more numerous 
than the birds of the air, and also more agile ; but no aquatic 
game worthy of a shot had as yet met our gaze, when at that 
moment I saw the Captain shoulder his gun quickly, and 
follow a moving object into the’ shrubs. He fired; I heard a 
slight hissing, and a creature fell stunned at some distance 
from us. It was a magnificent sea-otter, an enhydrus, the 
only exclusively marine quadruped. This otter was five feet 
long, and must have been very valuable. Its skin, chestnut- 
brown above and silvery underneath, would have made one 
of those beautiful furs so sought after in the Russian and 
Chinese markets : the fineness and the lustre of its coat would 
certainly fetch £80. I admired this curious mammal, with its 
rounded head ornamented with short ears, its round eyes, 
and white whiskers like those of a cat, with webbed feet and 
nails, and tufted tail. This precious animal, hunted and 
tracked by fishermen, has now become very rare, and taken 
refuge chiefly in the northern parts of the Pacific, or prob- 
ably its race would soon become extinct. 

Captain Nemo’s companion took the beast, threw it over 
his shoulder, and we continued our journey. For one hour 
a plain of sand lay stretched before us. Sometimes it rose 
to within two yards and some inches of the surface of the 
water. I then saw our image clearly reflected, drawn in- 
versely, and above us appeared an identical group reflecting 
our movements and our actions; in a word, like us in every 
point, except that they walked with their heads downward 
and their feet in the air. 

Another effect I noticed, which was the passage of thick 
clouds which formed and vanished rapidly; but on reflec- 
tion I understood that these seeming clouds were due to 
the varying thickness of the reeds at the bottom, and I 
could even see the fleecy foam which their broken tops 
multiplied on the water, and the shadows of large birds 


94 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

passing above our heads, whose rapid flight I could discern 
on the surface of the sea. 

On this occasion I was witness to one of the finest gun- 
shots which ever made the nerves of a hunter thrill. A 
large bird of great breadth of wing, clearly visible, ap- 
proached, hovering over us. Captain Nemo’s companion 
shouldered his gun and fired, when it was only a few yards 
above the waves. The creature fell stunned, and the force 
of its fall brought it within the reach of dexterous hunter’s 
grasp. It was an albatross of the finest kind. 

Our march had not been interrupted by this incident. 
Tor two hours we followed these sandy plains, then fields 
of algae very disagreeable to cross. Candidly, I could do 
no more when I saw a glimmer of light, which, for a half 
mile, broke the darkness of the waters. It was the lantern 
of the Nautilus. Before twenty minutes were over we should 
be on board, and I should be able to breathe with ease, for 
it seemed that my reservoir supplied air very deficient in 
oxygen. But I did not reckon on an accidental meeting 
which delayed our arrival for some time. 

I had remained some steps behind, when I presently 
saw Captain Nemo coming hurriedly towards me. With 
his strong hand he bent me to the ground, his companion 
doing the same to Conseil. At first I knew not what to 
think of this sudden attack, but I was soon reassured by 
seeing the Captain lie down beside me, and remain im- 
movable. 

I was stretched on the ground, just under the shelter of 
a bush of algae, when, raising my head, I saw some enor- 
mous mass, casting phosphorescent gleams, pass bluster- 
ingly by. 

My blood froze in my veins as I recognised two formi- 
dable sharks which threatened us. It was a couple of tintoreas, 
terrible creatures, with enormous tails and a dull glassy 
stare, the phosphorescent matter ejected from holes pierced 
around the muzzle. Monstrous brutes! which would crush 
a whole man in their iron jaws. I did not know whether Con- 
seil stopped to classify them; for my part, I noticed their 
silver bellies, and their huge mouths bristling with teeth, 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 95 

from a very unscientific point of view, and more as a pos- 
sible victim than as a naturalist. 

Happily the voracious creatures do not see well. They 
passed without seeing us, brushing us with their brownish 
fins, and we escaped by a miracle from a danger certainly 
greater than meeting a tiger full-face in the forest. Half 
an hour after, guided by the electric light we reached the 
N autUus. The outside door had been left open, and Captain 
Nemo closed it as soon as we had entered the first cell. 
He then pressed a knob. I heard the pumps working in the 
midst of the vessel, I felt the water sinking from around me, 
and in a few moments the cell was entirely empty. The 
inside door then opened, and we entered the vestry. 

There our diving-dress was taken off, not without some 
trouble, and, fairly worn out from want of food and sleep, 
I returned to my room, in great wonder at this surprising 
excursion at the bottom of the sea. 


CHAPTER XVII 

FOUR THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE PACIFIC 

The next morning, the 18th of November, I had quite 
recovered from my fatigues of the day before, and I went 
up on to the platform, just as the second lieutenant was 
uttering his daily phrase. 

I was admiring the magnificent aspect of the ocean when 
Captain Nemo appeared. He did not seem to be aware of 
my presence, and began a series of astronomical observa- 
tions. Then, when he had finished, he went and leant on 
the cage of the watch-light, and gazed abstractedly on the 
ocean. In the meantime, a number of the sailors of the Nau- 
tilus, all strong and healthy men, had come up onto the 
platform. They came to draw up the nets that had been 
laid all night. These sailors were evidently of different 
nations, although the European type was visible in all of 
them. I recognised some unmistakable Irishmen, Frenchmen, 
some Sclaves, and a Greek, or a Candiote. They were civil, 


96 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

and only used that odd language among themselves, the 
origin of which I could not guess, neither could I question 
them. 

The nets were hauled in. They were a large kind of 
‘‘chaluts,” like those on the Normandy coasts, great pockets 
that the waves and a chain fixed in the smaller meshes 
kept open. These pockets, drawn by iron poles, swept 
through the water, and gathered in everything in their 
way. That day they brought up curious specimens from 
those productive coasts. 

I reckoned that the haul had brought in more than nine 
hundredweight of fish. It was a fine haul, but not to be 
wondered at. Indeed, the nets are let down for several hours, 
and enclose in their meshes an infinite variety. We had no 
lack of excellent food, and the rapidity of the Nautilus 
and the attraction of the electric light could always renew 
our supply. These several productions of the sea were 
immediately lowered through the panel to the steward’s 
room, some to be eaten fresh, and others pickled. 

The fishing ended, the provision of air renewed, I thought 
that the Nautilus was about to continue its submarine ex- 
cursion, and was preparing to return to my room, when, 
without further preamble, the Captain turned to me, saying : 

“Professor, is not this ocean gifted with real life.^ It 
has its tempers and its gentle moods. Yesterday it slept 
as we did, and now it has woke after a quiet night. Look!” 
he continued, “it wakes under the caresses of the sun. It 
is going to renew its dirunal existence. It is an interesting 
study to watch the play of its organisation. It has a pulse, 
arteries, spasms ; and I agree with the learned Maury, who 
discovered in it a circulation as real as the circulation of 
blood in animals. 

“Yes, the ocean has indeed circulation, and to promote 
it, the Creator has caused things to multiply in it — caloric, 
salt, and animalculae.” 

When Captain Nemo spoke thus, he seemed altogether 
changed, and aroused an extraordinary emotion in me. 

“Also,” he added, “true existence is there; and I can 
imagine the foundations of nautical towns, clusters of sub- 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 97 

marine houses, which, like the Nautilus, would ascend every 
morning to breathe at the surface of the water, free 
towns, independent cities. Yet who knows whether some 
despot ” 

Captain Nemo finished his sentence with a violent gesture. 
Then, addressing me as if to chase away some sorrowful 
thought : 

“M. Arronax,” he asked, “do you know the depth of the 
ocean 

“I only know. Captain, what the principal soundings have 
taught us.” 

“Could you tell me them, so that I can suit them to my 
purpose.^” 

“These are some,” I replied, “that I remember. If I am 
not mistaken, a depth of 8,000 yards has been found in 
the North Atlantic, and 2,500 yards in the Mediterranean. 
The most remarkable soundings have been made in the 
South Atlantic, near the thirty-fifth parallel, and they gave 
12,000 yards, 14,000 yards, and 15,000 yards. To sum up 
all, it is reckoned that if the bottom of the sea were levelled, 
its mean depth would be about one and three-quarter 
leagues.” 

“Well, Professor,” replied the Captain, “we shall show 
you better than that I hope. As to the mean depth of this 
part of the Pacific, I tell you it is only 4,000 yards.” 

Having said this. Captain Nemo went towards the panel, 
and disappeared down the ladder. I followed him, and went 
into the large drawing-room. The screw was immediately 
put in motion, and the log gave twenty miles an hour. 

During the days and weeks that passed. Captain Nemo 
was very sparing of his visits. I seldom saw him. The 
lieutenant pricked the ship’s course regularly on the chart, 
so I could always tell exactly the route of the Nautilus, 

Nearl}^ every day, for some time, the panels of the 
drawing-room were opened, and we were never tired of 
penetrating the mysteries of the submarine world. 

The general direction of the Nautilus was south-east, and 
it kept between 100 and 150 yards of depth. One day, 
however, I do not know why, being drawn diagonally by 


98 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

means of the inclined planes, it touched the bed of the sea. 
The thermometer indicated a temperature of 4.25 (cent.) : 
a temperature that at this depth seemed common to all 
latitudes. 

At three o’clock in the morning of the 26th of November 
the Nautilus crossed the tropic of Cancer at 172° long. On 
27th instant it sighted the Sandwich Islands, where Cook 
died, February 14, 1779. We had then gone 4,860 leagues 
from our starting-point. In the morning, when I went on 
the platform, I saw two miles to windward, Hawaii, the 
largest of the seven islands that form the group. I saw 
clearly the cultivated ranges, and the several mountain- 
chains that run parallel with the side, and the volcanoes that 
overtop Mouna-Rea, which rise 5,000 yards above the level 
of the sea. Besides other things the nets brought up, were 
several flabellariae and graceful polypi, that are peculiar to 
that part of the ocean. The direction of the Nautilus was 
still to the south-east. It crossed the equator December 1, 
in 142° long.; and on the 4th of the same month, after 
crossing rapidly and without anything in particular occur- 
ring, we sighted the Marquesas group. I saw, three miles 
off, Martin’s peak in Nouka-Hiva, the largest of the group 
that belongs to France. I only saw the woody mountains 
against the horizon, because Captain Nemo did not wish 
to bring the ship to the wind. There the nets brought up 
beautiful specimens of fish: some with azure fins and tails 
like gold, the flesh of which is unrivalled; some nearly 
destitute of scales, but of exquisite flavour; others, with 
bony jaws, and yellow-tinged gills, as good as bonitos; all 
fish that would be of use to us. After leaving these charming 
islands protected by the French flag, from the 4th to the 
11th of December the Nautilus sailed over about 2,000 miles. 

During the daytime of the 11th of December I was busy 
reading in the large drawing-room. Ned Land and Conseil 
watched the luminous water through the half-open panels. 
The Nautilus was immovable. While its reservoirs were 
filled, it kept at a depth of 1,000 yards, a region rarely 
visited in the ocean, and in which large fish were seldom 
seen. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 99 

I was then reading a charming book by Jean Mace, 
The Slaves of the Stomach, and I was learning some valu- 
able lessons from it, when Conseil interrupted me. 

“Will master come here a moment.?” he said, in a curious 
voice. 

“What is the matter, Conseil.?” 

“I want master to look.” 

I rose, went, and leaned on my elbows before the panes 
and watched. 

In a full electric light, an enormous black mass, quite 
immovable, was suspended in the midst of the waters. I 
watched it attentively, seeking to find out the nature of 
this gigantic cetacean. But a sudden thought crossed my 
mind. “A vessel!” I said, half aloud. 

“Yes,” replied the Canadian, “a disabled ship that has 
sunk perpendicularly.” 

Ned Land was right; we were close to a vessel of which 
the tattered shrouds still hung from their chains. The keel 
seemed to be in good order, and it had been wrecked at 
most some few hours. Three stumps of masts, broken off 
about two feet above the bridge, showed that the vessel 
had had to sacrifice its masts. But, lying on its side, it had 
filled, and it was heeling over to port. This skeleton of what 
it had once been was a sad spectacle as it lay lost under the 
waves, but sadder still was the sight of the bridge, where 
some corpses, bound with ropes, were still lying. I counted 
five — four men, one of whom was standing at the helm, and 
a woman standing by the poop, holding an infant in her 
arms. She was quite young. I could distinguish her features, 
which the water had not decomposed, by the brilliant light 
from the Nautilus. In one despairing effort, she had raised 
her infant above her head — poor little thing! — whose arms 
encircled its mother’s neck. The attitude of the four sailors 
was frightful, distorted as they were by their convulsive 
movements, whilst making a last effort to free themselves 
from the cords that bound them to the vessel. The steers- 
man alone, calm, with a grave, clear face, his grey hair 
glued to his forehead, and his hand clutching the wheel of 


100 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

the helm, seemed even then to be guiding the three broken 
masts through the depths of the ocean. 

What a scene! We were dumb; our hearts beat fast be- 
fore this shipwreck, taken as it were from life and photo- 
graphed in its last moments. And I saw already, coming 
towards it with hungry eyes, enormous sharks, attracted 
by the human flesh. 

However, the Nautilus, turning, went round the sub- 
merged vessel, and in one instant I read on the stern — 
^^The Florida, Sunderland. 


CHAPTER XVIII 

VANIKORO 

T HIS terrible spectacle was the forerunner of the series of 
maritime catastrophes that the Nautilus was destined to 
meet with in its route. As long as it went through more 
frequented waters, we often saw the hulls of shipwrecked 
vessels that were rotting in the depths, and deeper down 
cannons, bullets, anchors, chains, and a thousand other iron 
materials eaten up by rust. However, on the 11th of 
December we sighted the Pomotou Islands, the old “dan- 
gerous group” of Bougainville, that extend over a space of 
500 leagues at E.S.E. to W.N.W., from the Island Ducie to 
that of Lazareff. This group covers an area of 870 square 
leagues, and it is formed of sixty groups of islands, among 
which the Gambier group is remarkable, over which France 
exercises sway. These are coral islands, slowly raised, but 
continuous, created by the daily work of polypi. Then this 
new island will be joined later on to the neighboring 
groups, and a fifth continent will stretch from New Zealand 
and New Caledonia, and from thence to the Marquesas. 

One day, when I was suggesting this theory to Captain 
Nemo, he replied coldly: 

“The earth does not want new continents, but new men.” 

On 15th of December, we left to the east the bewitching 
group of the Societies and the graceful Tahiti, queen of the 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 101 

Pacific. I saw in the morning, some miles to the windward, 
the elevated summits of the island. These waters furnished 
our table with excellent fish, mackerel, bonitos, and some 
varieties of a sea-serpent. 

On the 25th of December the Nautilus sailed into the 
midst of the New Hebrides, discovered by Quiros in 1606, 
and that Bougainville explored in 1768, and to which Cook 
gave its present name in 1773. This group is composed 
principally of nine large islands, that form a band of 120 
leagues N.N.S. to S.S.W., between 15° and 2° S. lat., and 
164° and 168° long. We passed tolerably near to the Island 
of Aurou, that at noon looked like a mass of green woods, 
surmounted by a peak of great height. 

That day being Christmas Day, Ned Land seemed to 
regret sorely the non-celebration of “Christmas,” the family 
fete of which Protestants are so fond. I had not seen Cap- 
tain Nemo for a week, when, on the morning of the 27th, 
he came into the large drawing-room, always seeming as if 
he had seen you five minutes before. I was busily tracing 
the route of the Nautilus on the planisphere. The Captain 
came up to me, put his finger on one spot on the chart, and 
said this single word. 

“Vanikoro.” 

The effect was magical! It was the name of the islands 
on which La Perouse had been lost! I rose suddenly. 

“The Nautilus has brought us to Vanikoro.?” I asked. 

“Yes, Professor,” said the Captain. 

“And I can visit the celebrated islands where the Boussole 
and the Astrolabe struck.?” 

“If you like. Professor.” 

“When shall we be there.?” 

“We are there now.” 

Followed by Captain Nemo, I went up on to the platform, 
and greedily scanned the horizon. 

To the N.E. two volcanic islands emerged of unequal 
size, surrounded by a coral reef that measured forty miles 
in circumference. We were close to Vanikoro, really the one 
to which Dumont d’Urville gave the name of Isle de la 
Recherche, and exactly facing the little harbour of Vanou, 


102 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

situated in 4' S. lat., and 164° 32' E. long. The earth 
seemed covered with verdure from the shore to the summits 
in the interior, that were crowned by Mount Kapogo, 476 
feet high. The Nautilus^ having passed the outer belt of 
rocks by a narrow strait, found itself among breakers where 
the sea was from thirty to forty fathoms deep. Under the 
verdant shade of some mangroves I perceived some savages, 
who appeared greatly surprised at our approach. In the 
long black body, moving between wind and water, did they 
not see some formidable cetacean that they regarded with 
suspicion 

Just then Captain Nemo asked me what I knew about the 
wreck of La Perouse. 

“Only what everyone knows. Captain,” I replied. 

“And could you tell me what everyone knows about it.^” 
he inquired, ironically. 

“Easily.” 

I related to him all that the last works of Dumont d’Ur- 
ville had made known — ^works from which the following is 
a brief account. 

La Perouse, and his second. Captain de Langle, were 
sent by Louis XVI, in 1785, on a voyage of circumnaviga- 
tion. They embarked in the corvettes Boussole and the Astro- 
labe, neither of which were again heard of. In 1791, the 
French Government, justly uneasy as to the fate of these 
two sloops, manned two large merchantmen, the Recherche 
and the Esperance, which left Brest the 28th of September 
under the command of Bruni d’Entrecasteaux. 

Two months after, they learned from Bowen, commander 
of the Albemarle, that the debris of shipwrecked vessels 
had been seen on the coasts of New Georgia. But D’Entre- 
casteaux, ignoring this communication — rather uncertain, 
besides — directed his course towards the Admiralty Islands, 
mentioned in a report of Captain Hunter’s as being the 
place where La Perouse was wrecked. 

They sought in vain. The Esperance and the Recherche 
passed before Vanikoro without stopping there, and, in 
fact, this voyage was most disastrous, as it cost D’Entre- 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 103 

casteaux his life, and those of two of his lieutenants, besides 
several of his crew. 

Captain Dillon, a shrewd old Pacific sailor, was the first 
to find unmistakable traces of the wrecks. On the 15th of 
May, 1824, his vessel, the St. Patrick^ passed close to 
Tikopia, one of the New Hebrides. There a Lascar came 
alongside in a canoe, sold him the handle of a sword in silver 
that bore the print of characters engraved on the hilt. The 
Lascar pretended that six years before, during a stay at 
Vanikoro, he had seen two Europeans that belonged to some 
vessels that had run aground on the reefs some years ago. 

Dillon guessed that he meant La Perouse, whose disap- 
pearance had troubled the whole world. He tried to get 
on to Vanikoro, where, according to the Lascar, he would 
find numerous debris of the wreck, but winds and tides pre- 
vented him. 

Dillon returned to Calcutta. There he interested the 
Asiatic Society and the Indian Company in his discovery. 
A vessel, to which was giVen the name of the Recherche, was 
put at his disposal, and he set out, 23rd January, 1327, 
accompanied by a French agent. 

The Recherche, after touching at several points in the 
Pacific, cast anchor before Vanikoro, 7th July, 1827, in 
that same harbour of Vanou where the Nautilus was at 
this time. 

There it collected numerous relics of the wreck — iron 
utensils, anchors, pulley-strops, swivel-guns, an 18 lb. shot, 
fragments of astronomical instruments, a piece of crown- 
work, and a bronze clock, bearing this inscription — ^'Bazin 
m'a fait,''' the mark of the foundry of the arsenal at Brest 
about 1785. There could be no further doubt. 

Dillon, having made all inquiries, stayed in the unlucky 
place till October. Then he quitted Vanikoro, and directed 
his course towards New Zealand; put into Calcutta, 7th 
April, 1828, and returned to France, where he was warmly 
welcomed by Charles X. 

But at the same time, without knowing Dillon’s move- 
ments, Dumont d’Urville had already set out to find the 
scene of the wreck. And they had learned from a whaler 


104) TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

that some medals and a cross of St. Louis had been found 
in the hands of some savages of Louisiade and New Cale- 
donia. Dumont d’Urville, commander of the Astrolabe, had 
then sailed, and two months after Dillon had left Vanikoro 
he put into Hobart Town. There he learned the results of 
Dillon’s inquiries, and found that a certain James Hobbs, 
second lieutenant of the Union of Calcutta, after landing 
on an island situated 8° 18' S. lat., and 156° 30' E. long., 
had seen some iron bars and red stuffs used by the natives 
of these parts. Dumont d’Urville, much perplexed, and not 
knowing how to credit the reports of low-class journals, 
decided to follow Dillon’s track. 

On the 10th of February, 1828, the Astrolabe appeared 
off Tikopia, and took as guide and interpreter a deserter 
found on the island; made his way to Vanikoro, sighted it 
on the 12th inst., lay among the reefs until the llith, and 
not until the 20th did he cast anchor within the barrier in 
the harbour of Vanou. 

On the 23rd, several officers w6nt round the island and 
brought back some unimportant trifles. The natives, adopt- 
ing a system of denials and evasions, refused to take them 
to the unlucky place. This ambiguous conduct led them to 
believe that the natives had ill-treated the castaways, and 
indeed they seemed to fear that Dumont d’Urville had come 
to avenge La Perouse and his unfortunate crew. 

However, on the 26th, appeased by some presents, and 
understanding that they had no reprisals to fear, they led 
M. Jacquireot to the scene of the wreck. 

There, in three or four fathoms of water, between the 
reefs of Pacou and Vanou, lay anchors, cannons, pigs of 
lead and iron, embedded in the limy concretions. The large 
boat and the whaler belonging to the Astrolabe were sent to 
this place, and, not without some difficulty, their crews 
hauled up an anchor weighing 1,800 lbs., a brass gun, some 
pigs of iron, and two copper swivel-guns. 

Dumont d’Urville, questioning the natives, learned too 
that La Perouse, after losing both his vessels on the reefs of 
this island, had constructed a smaller boat, only to be lost a 
second time. Where, no one knew. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 105 

But the French Government, fearing that Dumont d’Ur- 
ville was not acquainted with Dillon’s movements, had sent 
the sloop Bayonnaise, commanded by Legoarant de Trome- 
lin, to Vanikoro, which had been stationed on the west coast 
of America. The Bayonnaise cast her anchor before Vani- 
koro some months after the departure of the Astrolabe, but 
found no new document ; but stated that the savages had 
respected the monument to La Perouse. That is the sub- 
stance of what I told Captain Nemo. 

“So,” he said, “no one knows now where the third vessel 
perished that was constructed by the castaways on the island 
of Vanikoro.?” 

“No one knows.” 

Captain Nemo said nothing, but signed to me to follow 
him into the large saloon. The Nautilus sank several yards 
below the waves, and the panels were opened. 

I hastened to the aperture, and under the crustations of 
coral, covered with fungi, I recognised certain debris that 
the drags had not been able to tear up — iron stirrups, 
anchors, cannons, bullets, capstan fittings, the stem of a 
ship, all objects clearly proving the wreck of some vessel, 
and now carpeted with living flowers. While I was looking 
on this desolate scene. Captain Nemo said, in a sad voice: 

“Commander La Perouse set out 7th December, 1785, 
with his vessels La Botussole and the Astrolabe, He first cast 
anchor at Botany Bay, visited the Friendly Isles, New Cale- 
donia, then directed his course towards Santa Cruz, and 
put into Namouka, one of the Hapai group. Then his ves- 
sels struck on the unknown reefs of Vanikoro. The Boussole, 
which went first, ran aground on the southerly coast. The 
Astrolabe went to its help, and ran aground too. The first 
vessel was destroyed almost immediately. The second, 
stranded under the wind, resisted some days. The natives 
made the castaways welcome. They installed themselves in 
the island, and constructed a smaller boat with the debris 
of the two large ones. Some sailors stayed willingly at Vani- 
koro ; the others, weak and ill, set out with La Perouse. They 
directed their course towards the Solomon Islands, and there 
perished, with everything, on the westerly coast of the 


106 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

chief island of the group, between Capes Deception and 
Satisfaction.” 

“How do you know that.?” 

“By this, that I found on the spot where was the last 
Wreck.” 

Captain Nemo showed me a tin-plate box, stamped with 
the French arms, and corroded by the salt water. He 
opened it, and I saw a bundle of papers, yellow but still 
readable. 

They were the instructions of the naval minister to Com- 
mander La Perouse, annotated in the margin in Louis XVI’s 
handwriting. 

“Ah! it is a fine death for a sailor!” said Captain Nemo, 
at last. “A coral tomb makes a quiet grave ; and I trust that 
I and my comrades will find no other.” 


CHAPTER XIX 

TORRES STRAITS 

D URiNG the night of the 27th or 28th of December, the 
Nautilus left the shores of Vanikoro with great speed. Her 
course was south-westerly, and in three days she had gone 
over the 750 leagues that separated it from La Perouse’^ 
group and the south-east point of Papua. 

Early on the 1st of January, 1863, Conseil joined me on 
the platform. 

“Master, will you permit me to wish you a happy New 
Year.?” 

“What ! Conseil ; exactly as if I was at Paris in my study 
at the Jardin des Plantes.? Well, I accept your good wishes, 
and thank you for them. Only, I will ask you what you 
mean by a ‘Happy New Year’ under our circumstances.? 
Do you mean the year that will bring us to the end of our 
imprisonment, or the year that sees us continue this strange 
voyage.?” 

“Really, I do not know how to answer, master. We are 
sure to see curious things, and for the last two months we 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 107 

have not had time for dullness. The last marvel is always 
the most astonishing; and, if we continue this progression, 
I do not know how it will end. It is my opinion that we 
shall never again see the like. I think then, with no offence 
to master, that a happy year would be one in which we 
could see everything.” 

On 2nd January we had made 11,340 miles, or 5,250 
French leagues, since our starting-point in the Japan Seas. 
Before the ship’s head stretched the dangerous shores of 
the coral sea, on the north-east coast of Australia. Our boat 
lay along some miles from the redoubtable bank on which 
Cook’s vessel was lost, 10th June, 1770. The boat in which 
Cook was struck on a rock, and, if it did not sink, it was 
owing to a piece of coral that was broken by the shock, and 
fixed itself in the broken keel. 

I had wished to visit the reef, 360 leagues long, against 
which the sea, always rough, broke with great violence, with 
a noise like thunder. But just then the inclined planes drew 
the Nautilus down to a great depth, and I could see nothing 
of the high coral walls. I had to content myself with the 
different specimens of fish brought up by the nets. I re- 
marked, among others, some germons, a species of mackerel 
as large as a tunny, with bluish sides, and striped with trans- 
verse bands, that disappear with the animal’s life. These 
fish followed us in shoals, and furnished us with very deli- 
cate food. We took also a large number of giltheads, about 
one and a half inches long, tasting like dorys; and flying 
fire-fish like submarine swallows, which, in dark nights, light 
alternately the air and water with their phosphorescent light. 

Two days after crossing the coral sea, 4th January, we 
sighted the Papuan coasts. On this occasion. Captain Nemo 
informed me that his intention was to get into the Indian 
Ocean by the Strait of Torres. His communication ended 
there. 

The Torres Straits are nearly thirty-four leagues wide; 
but they are obstructed by an innumerable quantity of 
islands, islets, breakers, and rocks, that make its navigation 
almost impracticable ; so that Captain Nemo took all need- 
ful precautions to cross them. The Nautilus, floating be- 


108 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

twixt wind and water, went at a moderate pace. Her screw, 
like a cetacean’s tail, beat the waves slowly. 

Profiting by this, I and my two companions went up on 
to the deserted platform. Before us was the steersman’s 
cage, and I expected that Captain Nemo v/as there direct- 
ing the course of the Nautilus. I had before me the excellent 
charts of the Straits of Torres, and I consulted them atten- 
tively. Round the Nautilus the sea dashed furiously. The 
course of the waves, that went from south-east to north-west 
at the rate of two and a half miles, broke on the coral that 
showed itself here and there. 

“This is a bad sea!” remarked Ned Land. 

“Detestable indeed, and one that does not suit a boat like 
the Nautilus.^^ 

“The Captain must be very sure of his route, for I see 
there pieces of coral that would do for its keel if it only 
touched them slightly.” 

Indeed the situation was dangerous, but the Nautilus 
seemed to slide like magic off these rocks. It did not follow 
the routes of the Astrolabe and the Zelee exactly, for they 
proved fatal to Dumont d’Urville. It bore more northwards, 
coasted the Islands of Murray, and came back to the south- 
west towards Cumberland Passage. I thought it was going 
to pass it by, when, going back to north-west, it went through 
a large quantity of islands and islets little known, towards 
the Island Sound and Canal Mauvais. 

I wondered if Captain Nemo, foolishly imprudent, would 
steer his vessel into that pass where Dumont d’Urville’s two 
corvettes touched ; when, swerving again, and cutting 
straight through to the west, he steered for the Island of 
Gilboa. 

It was then three in the afternoon. The tide began to 
recede, being quite full. The Nautilus approached the island, 
that I still saw, with its remarkable border of screw-pines. 
He stood off it at about two miles distant. Suddenly a shock 
overthrew me. The Nautilus just touched a rock, and stayed 
immovable, laying lightly to port side. 

When I rose, I perceived Captain Nemo and his lieu- 
tenant on the platform. They were examining the situation 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 109 

of the vessel, and exchanging words in their incomprehen- 
sible dialect. 

She was situated thus: Two miles, on the starboard side, 
appeared Gilboa, stretching from north to west like an 
immense arm. Towards the south and east some coral showed 
itself, left by the ebb. We had run aground, and in one 
of those seas where the tides are middling — a sorry matter 
for the floating of the Nautilus. However, the vessel had 
not suffered, for her keel was solidly joined. But, if she 
could neither glide off nor move, she ran the risk of being 
for ever fastened to these rocks, and then Captain Nemo’s 
submarine vessel would be done for. 

I was reflecting thus, when the Captain, cool and calm, 
always master of himself, approached me. 

“An accident I asked. 

“No; an incident.” 

“But an incident that will oblige you perhaps to become 
an inhabitant of this land from which you flee.^” 

Captain Nemo looked at me curiously, and made a nega- 
tive gesture, as much as to say that nothing would force him 
to set foot on terra firma again. Then he said: 

“Besides, M. Aronnax, the Nautilus is not lost; it will 
carry you yet into the midst of the marvels of the ocean. 
Our voyage is only begun, and I do not wish to be deprived 
so soon of the honour of your company.” 

“However, Captain Nemo,” I replied, without noticing 
the ironical turn of his phrase, “the Nautilus ran aground 
in open sea. Now the tides are not strong in the Pacific; 
and, if you cannot lighten the Nautilus^ I do not see how it 
will be reinflated.” 

“The tides are not strong in the Pacific: you are right 
there. Professor; but in Torres Straits one finds still a 
difference of a yard and a half between the level of high 
and low seas. To-day is 4th January, and in five days the 
moon will be full. Now, I shall be very much astonished if 
that satellite does not raise these masses of water sufficiently, 
and render me a service that I should be indebted to her for.” 

Having said this. Captain Nemo, followed by his lieu- 
tenant, redescended to the interior of the Nautilus. As to 


110 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

the vessel, it moved not, and was immovable, as if the- 
coralline polypi had already walled it up with their in- 
destructible cement. 

“Well, sir?” said Ned Land, who came up to me after 
the departure of the Captain. 

“Well, friend Ned, we will wait patiently for the tide on 
the 9th instant; for it appears that the moon will have the 
goodness to put it off again.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

“And this Captain is not going to cast anchor at all since 
the tide will suffice?” said Conseil, simply. 

The Canadian looked at Conseil, then shrugged his 
shoulders. 

“Sir, you may believe me when I tell you that this piece 
of iron will navigate neither on nor under the sea again; 
it is only fit to be sold for its weight. I think, therefore, 
that the time has come to part company with Captain 
Nemo.” 

“Friend Ned, I do not despair of this stout Nautilus^ as 
you do; and in four days we shall know what to hold to on 
the Pacific tides. Besides, flight might be possible if we were 
in sight of the English or Proven 9 al coast; but on the 
Papuan shores, it is another thing; and it will be time 
enough to come to that extremity if the Nautilus does not 
recover itself again, which I look upon as a grave event.” 

“But do they know, at least, how to act circumspectly? 
There is an island; on that island there are trees; under 
those trees, terrestrial animals, bearers of cutlets and roast- 
beef, to which I would willingly give a trial.” 

“In this, friend Ned is right,” said Conseil, “and I agree 
with him. Could not master obtain permission from his friend 
Captain Nemo to put us on land, if only so as not to lose 
the habit of treading on the solid parts of our planet?” 

“I can ask him, but he will refuse.” 

“Will master risk it?” asked Conseil, “and we shall know 
how to rely upon the Captain’s amiability.” 

To my great surprise. Captain Nemo gave me the per- 
mission I asked for, and he gave it very agreeably, without 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 111 

even exacting from me a promise to return to the vessel ; 
but flight across New Guinea might be very perilous, and 
I should not have counselled Ned Land to attempt it. Better 
to be a prisoner on board the Nautilus than to fall into 
the hands of the natives. 

At eight o’clock, armed with guns and hatchets, we got 
off the Nautilus. The sea was pretty calm; a slight ’ breeze 
blew on land. Conseil and I rowing, we sped along quickly, 
and Ned steered in the straight passage that the breakers 
left between them. The boat was well handled, and moved 
rapidly. 

Ned Land could not restrain his joy. He was like a pris- 
oner that had escaped from prison, and knew not that it 
was necessary to re-enter it. 

“Meat! We are going to eat some meat; and what meat!” 
he replied. “Real game! no, bread, indeed.” 

“I do not say that fish is not good; we must not abuse 
it ; but a piece of fresh venison, grilled on live coals, will 
agreeably vary our ordinary course.” 

“Glutton!” said Conseil, “he makes my mouth water.” 

“It remains to be seen,” I said, “if these forests are 
full of game, and if the game is not such as will hunt the 
hunter himself.” 

“Well said, M. Aronnax,” replied the Canadian, whose 
teeth seemed sharpened like the edge of a hatchet; “but 
I will eat tiger — loin of tiger — if there is no other quad- 
ruped on this island.” 

“Friend Ned is uneasy about it,” said Conseil. 

“Whatever it may be,” continued Ned Land, “every ani- 
mal with four paws without feathers, or with two paws 
without feathers, will be saluted by my first shot.” 

“Very well! Master Land’s imprudences are beginning.” 

“Never fear, M. Aronnax,” replied the Canadian; “I 
do not want twenty-five minutes to offer you a dish of my 
sort.” 

At half-past eight the Nautilus boat ran softly aground 
on a heavy sand, after having happily passed the coral reef 
that surrounds the Island of Gilboa. 


112 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 


CHAPTER XX 

A FEW DAYS ON LAND 

I WAS much impressed on touching land. Ned Land tried 
the soil with his feet, as if to take possession of it. How- 
ever, it was only two months before that we had become, 
according to Captain Nemo, “passengers on board the 
Nawtilusy^ but, in reality, prisoners of its commander. 

In a few minutes we were within musket-shot of the coast. 
The whole horizon was hidden behind a beautiful curtain 
of forests. Enormous trees, the trunks of which attained a 
height of 200 feet, were tied to each other by garlands of 
bindweed, real natural hammocks, which a light breeze 
rocked. They were mimosas, figs, hibisci, and palm trees, 
mingled together in profusion ; and under the shelter of 
their verdant vault grew orchids, leguminous plants, and 
ferns. 

But, without noticing all these beautiful specimens of 
Papuan flora, the Canadian abandoned the agreeable for 
the useful. He discovered a coco-tree, beat down some of 
the fruit, broke them, and we drunk the milk and ate the 
nut with a satisfaction that protested against the ordinary 
food on the Nautilus. 

“Excellent!” said Ned Land. 

“Exquisite 1” replied Conseil. 

“And I do not think,” said the Canadian, “that he would 
object to our introducing a cargo of coco-nuts on board.” 

“I do not think he would, but he would not taste them.” 

“So much the worse for him,” said Conseil. 

“And so much the better for us,” replied Ned Land. 
“There will be more for us.” 

“One word only. Master Land,” I said to the harpooner, 
who was beginning to ravage another coco-nut tree. “Coco- 
nuts are good things, but before filling the canoe with them 
it would be wise to reconnoitre and see if the island does not 
produce some substance not less useful. Fresh vegetables 
would be welcome on board the Nautilus.’^ 

“Master is right,” replied Conseil; “and I propose to 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA IIS 

reserve three places in our vessel, one for fruits, the other 
for vegetables, and the third for the venison, of which I 
have not yet seen the smallest specimen.” 

‘‘Conseil, we must not despair,” said the Canadian. 

“Let us continue,” I returned, “and lie in wait. Although 
the island seems uninhabited, it might still contain some 
individuals that would be less hard than we on the nature 
of game.” 

“Ho! ho!” said Ned Land, moving his jaws significantly. 

“Well, Ned!” said Conseil. 

“My word!” returned the Canadian, “I begin to under- 
stand the charms of anthropophagy.” 

“Ned! Ned! what are you saying.? You, a man-eater.? I 
should not feel safe with you, especially as I share your 
cabin. I might perhaps wake one day to find myself half 
devoured.” 

“Friend Conseil, I like you much, but not enough to eat 
you unnecessarily.” 

“I would hot trust you,” replied Conseil. “But enough. 
We must absolutely bring down some game to satisfy this 
cannibal, or else one of these fine mornings, master will find 
only pieces of his servant to serve him.” 

While we were talking thus, we were penetrating the 
sombre arches of the forest, and for two hours we surveyed 
it in all directions. 

Chance rewarded our search for eatable vegetables, and 
one of the most useful products of the tropical zones fur- 
nished us with precious food that we missed on board. I 
would speak of the bread-fruit tree, very abundant in the 
island of Gilboa; and I remarked chiefly the variety desti- 
tute of seeds, which bears in Malaya the name of “rima.” 

Ned Land knew these fruits well. He had already eaten 
many during his numerous voyages, and he knew how to 
prepare the eatable substance. Moreover, the sight of them 
excited him, and he could contain himself no longer. 

“Master,” he said, “I shall die if I do not taste a little 
of this bread-fruit pie.” 

“Taste it, friend Ned — taste it as you want. We are here 
to make experiments — make them.” 


114 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

‘‘It won’t take long,” said the Canadian. 

And, provided with a lentil, he lighted a fire of dead wood 
that crackled joyously. During this time, Conseil and I 
chose the best fruits of the bread-fruit. Some had not then 
attained a sufficient degree of maturity; and their thick 
skin covered a white but rather fibrous pulp. Others, the 
greater number yellow and gelatinous, waited only to be 
picked. 

These fruits enclosed no kernel. Conseil brought a dozen 
to Ned Land, who placed them on a coal fire, after having 
cut them in thick slices, and while doing this repeating: 

“You will see, master, how good this bread is. More so 
when one has been deprived of it so long. It is not even 
bread,” added he, “but a delicate pastry. You have eaten 
none, master.?” 

“No, Ned.” 

“Very well, prepare yourself for a juicy thing. If you do 
not come for more, I am no longer the king of harpooners.” 

After some minutes, the part of the fruits that was ex- 
posed to the fire was completely roasted. The interior looked 
like a white pasty, a sort of soft crumb, the flavour of which 
was like that of an artichoke. 

It must be confessed this bread was excellent, and I ate 
of it with great relish. 

“What time is it now.?” asked the Canadian. 

“Two o’clock at least,” replied Conseil. 

“How time flies on firm ground!” sighed Ned Land. 

“Let us be off,” replied Conseil. 

We returned through the forest, and completed our col- 
lection by a raid upon the cabbage-palms, that we gathered 
from the tops of the trees, little beans that I recognised as 
the “abrou” of the Malays, and yams of a superior quality. 

We were loaded when we reached the boat. But Ned 
Land did not find his provisions sufficient. Fate, however, 
favoured us. Just as we were pushing off, he perceived 
several trees, from twenty-five to thirty feet high, a species 
of palm-tree. 

At last, at five o’clock in the evening, loaded with our 
riches, we quitted the shore, and half an hour after we hailed 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 115 

the Nautilus. No one appeared on our arrival. The enormous 
iron-plated cylinder seemed deserted. The provisions em- 
barked, I descended to my chamber, and after supper slept 
soundly. 

The next day, 6th January, nothing new on board. Not 
a sound inside, not a sign of life. The boat rested along the 
edge, in the same place in which we had left it. We resolved 
to return to the island. Ned Land hoped to be more for- 
tunate than on the day before with regard to the hunt, and 
wished to visit another part of the forest. 

At dawn we set off. The boat, carried on by the waves 
that flowed to shore, reached the island in a few minutes. 

We landed, and, thinking that it was better to give in 
to the Canadian, we followed Ned Land, whose long limbs 
threatened to distance us. He wound up the coast towards 
the west: then, fording some torrents, he gained the high 
plain that was bordered with admirable forests. Some king- 
fishers were rambling along the water-courses, but they 
would not let themselves be approached. Their circumspec- 
tion proved to me that these birds knew what to expect from 
bipeds of our species, and I concluded that, if the island 
was not inhabited, at least human beings occasionally fre- 
quented it. 

After crossing a rather large prairie, we arrived at the 
skirts of a little wood that was enlivened by the songs and 
flight of a large number of birds. 

‘‘There are only birds,” said Conseil. 

“But they are eatable,” replied the harpooner. 

“I do not agree with you, friend Ned, for I see only par- 
rots there.” 

“Friend Conseil,” said Ned, gravely, “the parrot is like 
pheasant to those who have nothing else.” 

“And,” I added, “this bird, suitably prepared, is worth 
knife and fork.” 

Indeed, under the thick foliage of this wood, a world of 
parrots were flying from branch to branch, only needing a 
careful education to speak the human language. For the 
moment, they were chattering with parrots of all colours, 
and grave cockatoos, who seemed to meditate upon some 


116 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

philosophical problem, whilst brilliant red lories passed like 
a piece of bunting carried away by the breeze, papuans,, 
with the finest azure colours, and in all a variety of winged 
things most charming to behold, but few eatable. 

However, a bird peculiar to these lands, and which has 
never passed the limits of the Arrow and Papuan islands,, 
was wanting in this collection. But fortune reserved it for 
me before long. 

After passing through a moderately thick copse, we found 
a plain obstructed with bushes. I saw then those magnificent 
birds, the disposition of whose long feathers obliges them 
to fly against the wind. Their undulating flight, graceful 
aerial curves, and the shading of their colours, attracted 
and charmed one’s looks. I had no trouble in recognising 
them. 

“Birds of paradise !” I exclaimed. 

The Malays, who carry on a great trade in these birds 
with the Chinese, have several means that we could not 
employ for taking them. Sometimes they put snares on the 
top of high trees that the birds of paradise prefer to fre- 
quent. Sometimes they catch them with a viscous birdlime 
that paralyses their movements. They even go so far as to 
poison the fountains that the birds generally drink from. 
But we were obliged to fire at them during flight, which gave 
us few chances to bring them down ; and, indeed, we vainly 
exhausted one half our ammunition. 

About eleven o’clock in the morning, the first range of 
mountains that form the centre of the island was traversed, 
and we had killed nothing. Hunger drove us on. The hunters 
had relied on the products of the chase, and they were 
wrong. Happily Conseil, to his great surprise, made a 
double shot and secured breakfast. He brought down a white 
pigeon and a wood-pigeon, which, cleverly plucked and sus- 
pended from a skewer, was roasted before a red fire of dead 
wood. While these interesting birds were cooking, Ned pre- 
pared the fruit of the bread-tree. Then the wood-pigeons 
were devoured to the bones, and declared excellent. The 
nutmeg, with which they are in the habit of stuffing their 
crops, flavours their flesh and renders it delicious eating. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 117 

“Now, Ned, what do you miss now?” 

“Some four-footed game, M. Aronnax. All these pigeons 
are only side-dishes and trifles; and until I have killed an 
animal with cutlets I shall not be content.” 

“Nor I, Ned, if I do not catch a bird of paradise.” 

“Let us continue hunting,” replied Conseil. “Let us go 
towards the sea. We have arrived at the first declivities of 
the mountains, and I think we had better regain the region 
of forests.” 

That was sensible advice, and was followed out. After 
walking for one hour we had attained a forest of sago-trees. 
Some inoffensive serpents glided away from us. The birds 
of paradise fled at our approach, and truly I despaired of 
getting near one when Conseil, who was walking in front, 
suddenly bent down, uttered a triumphal cry, and came 
back to me bringing a magnificent specimen. 

“Ah! bravo, Conseil!” 

“Master is very good.” 

“No, my boy; you have made an excellent stroke. Take 
one of these living birds, and carry it in your hand.” 

“If master will examine it, he will see that I have not 
deserved great merit.” 

“Why, Conseil?” 

“Because this bird is as drunk as a quail.” 

“Drunk !” 

“Yes, sir; drunk with the nutmegs that it devoured under 
the nutmeg-tree, under which I found it. See, friend Ned, 
see the monstrous effects of intemperance !” 

“By Jove!” exclaimed the Canadian, “because I have 
drunk gin for two months, you must needs reproach me!” 

However, I examined the curious bird. Conseil was right. 
The bird, drunk with the juice, was quite powerless. It could 
not fly; it could hardly walk. 

This bird belonged to the most beautiful of the eight 
species that are found in Papua and in the neighbouring 
islands. It was the “large emerald bird, the most rare kind.” 
It measured three feet in length. Its head was comparatively 
small, its eyes placed near the opening of the beak, and 
also small. But the shades of colour were beautiful, having 


118 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

a yellow beak, brown feet and claws, nut-coloured wings with 
purple tips, pale yellow at the back of the neck and head, 
and emerald colour at the throat, chestnut on the breast 
and belly. Two horned, downy nets rose from below the tail, 
that prolonged the long light feathers of admirable fine- 
ness, and they completed the whole of this marvellous bird, 
that the natives have poetically named the “bird of the sun.” 

But if my wishes were satisfied by the possession of the 
bird of paradise, the Canadian’s were not yet. Happily, 
about two o’clock, Ned Land brought down a magnificent 
hog; from the brood of those the natives call “bari-outang.” 
The animal came in time for us to procure real quadruped 
meat, and he was well received. Ned Land was very proud 
of his shot. The hog, hit by the electric ball, fell stone dead. 
The Canadian skinned and cleaned it properly, after having 
taken half a dozen cutlets, destined to furnish us with a 
grilled repast in the evening. Then the hunt was resumed, 
which was still more marked by Ned and Conseil’s exploits. 

Indeed, the two friends, beating the bushes, roused a herd 
of kangaroos that fled and bounded along on their elastic 
paws. But these animals did not take to flight so rapidly 
but what the electric capsule could stop their course. 

“Ah, Professor !” cried Ned Land, who was carried away 
by the delights of the chase, “what excellent game, and 
stewed, too! What a supply for the Nautilus\ Two! three! 
five down ! And to think that we shall eat that flesh, and that 
the idiots on board shall not have a crumb !” 

I think that, in the excess of his joy, the Canadian, if 
he had not talked so much, would have killed them all. But 
he contented himself with a single dozen of these interesting 
marsupians. These animals were small. They were a species 
of those “kangaroo rabbits” that live habitually in the 
hollows of trees, and whose speed is extreme; but they are 
moderately fat, and furnish, at least, estimable food. We 
were very satisfied with the results of the hunt. Happy 
Ned proposed to return to this enchanting island the next 
day, for he wished to depopulate it of all the eatable quad- 
rupeds. But he had reckoned without his host. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 119 

At six o’clock in the evening we had regained the shore; 
our boat was moored to the usual place. The Nautilus^ like 
a long rock, emerged from the waves two miles from the 
beach. Ned Land, without waiting, occupied himself about 
the important dinner business. He understood all about 
cooking well. The “bari-outang,” grilled on the coals, soon 
scented the air with a delicious odour. 

Indeed, the dinner was excellent. Two wood-pigeons com- 
pleted this extraordinary menu. The sago pasty, the arto- 
carpus bread, some mangoes, half a dozen pineapples, and 
the liquor fermented from some coco-nuts, overjoyed us. I 
even think that my worthy companions’ ideas had not all 
the plainness desirable. 

“Suppose we do not return to the Nautilus this evening.^” 
said Conseil. 

“Suppose we never return.^” added Ned Land. 

Just then a stone fell at our feet and cut short the har- 
pooner’s proposition. 


CHAPTER XXI 

CAPTAIN nemo’s THUNDERBOLT 

We LOOKED at the edge of the forest without rising, my 
hand stopping in the action of putting it to my mouth, Ned 
Land’s completing its office. 

“Stones do not fall from the sky,” remarked Conseil, “or 
they would merit the name aerolites.” 

A second stone, carefully aimed, that made a savoury 
pigeon’s leg fall from Conseil’s hand, gave still more weight 
to his observation. We all three arose, shouldered our guns, 
and were ready to reply to any attack. 

“Are they apes.?” cried Ned Land. 

“Very nearly — they are savages.” 

“To the boat !” I said, hurrying to the sea. 

It was indeed necessary to beat a retreat, for about twenty 
natives armed with bows and slings appeared on the skirts 


120 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

of a copse that masked the horizon to the right, hardly a 
hundred steps from us. 

Our boat was moored about sixty feet from us. The sav- 
ages approached us, not running, but making hostile de- 
monstrations. Stones and arrows fell thickly. 

Ned Land had not wished to leave his provisions; and, 
in spite of his imminent danger, his pig on one side and 
kangaroos on the other, he went tolerably fast. In two min- 
utes we were on the shore. To load the boat with provisions 
and arms, to push it out to sea, and ship the oars, was the 
work of an instant. We had not gone two cable-lengths, 
when a hundred savages, howling and gesticulating, entered 
the water up to their waists. I watched to see if their appari- 
tion would attract some men from the NautUus on to the 
platform. But no. The enormous machine, lying off, was 
absolutely deserted. 

Twenty minutes later we were on board. The panels were 
open. After making the boat fast, we entered into the in- 
terior of the Nautilus. 

I descended to the drawing-room, from whence I heard 
some chords. Captain Nemo was there, bending over his 
organ, and plunged in a musical ecstasy. 

“Captain !” 

He did not hear me. 

“Captain!” I said, touching his hand. 

He shuddered, and, turning round, said, “Ah! it is you. 
Professor.? Well, have you had a good hunt, have you 
botanised successfully.?” 

“Yes, Captain; but we have unfortunately brought a 
troop of bipeds, whose vicinity troubles me.” 

“What bipeds.?” 

“Savages.” 

“Savages !” he echoed, ironically. “So you are astonished. 
Professor, at having set foot on a strange land and finding 
savages.? Savages! where are there not any.? Besides, are 
they worse than others, these whom you call savages.?” 

“But Captain ” 

“How many have you counted.?” 


TWENTY THOUSAND TEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 121 

“A hundred at least.” 

‘‘M. Aronnax,” replied Captain Nemo, placing his fingers 
on the organ stops, ‘Svhen all the natives of Papua are as- 
sembled on this shore, the Nautilus will have nothing to fear 
from their attacks.” 

The Captain’s fingers were then running over the keys 
of the instrument, and I remarked that he touched only 
the black keys, which gave his melodies an essentially Scotch 
character. Soon he had forgotten my presence, and had 
plunged into a reverie that I did not disturb. I went up 
again on to the platform: night had already fallen; for, 
in this low latitude, the sun sets rapidly and without twi- 
light. I could only see the island indistinctly ; but the numer- 
ous fires, lighted on the beach, showed that the natives did 
not think of leaving it. I was alone for several hours, some- 
times thinking of the natives — but without any dread of 
them, for the imperturbable confidence of the Captain was 
catching — sometimes forgetting them to admire the splen- 
dours of the night in the tropics. IMy remembrances went to 
France in the train of those zodiacal stars that would shine 
in some hours’ time. The moon shone in the midst of the 
constellations of the zenith. 

The night slipped away without any mischance, the 
islanders frightened no doubt at the sight of a monster 
aground in the bay. The panels were open, and would have 
offered an easy access to the interior of the Nautilus. 

At six o’clock in the morning of the 8th January I went 
up on to the platform. The dawn was breaking. The island 
soon showed itself through the dissipating fogs, first the 
shore, then the summits. 

The natives were there, more numerous than on the day 
before — five or six hundred perhaps — some of them, profit- 
ing by the low water, had come on to the coral, at less than 
two cable-lengths from the Nautilus. I distinguished them 
easily; they were true Papuans, with athletic figures, men 
of good race, large high foreheads, large, but not broad 
and flat, and white teeth. Their woolly hair, with a reddish 
tinge, showed off on their black shining bodies like those of 


122 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

the Nubians. From the lobes of their ears, cut and distended, 
hung chaplets of bones. Most of these savages were naked. 
Amongst them, I remarked some women, dressed from the 
hips to knees in quite a crinoline of herbs, that sustained a 
vegetable waistband. Some chiefs had ornamented their necks 
with a crescent and collars of glass beads, red and white; 
nearly all were armed with bows, arrows, and shields and 
carried on their shoulders a sort of net containing those 
round stones which they cast from their slings with great 
skill. One of these chiefs, rather near to the Nautilus^ ex- 
amined it attentively. He was, perhaps, a “mado” of high 
rank, for he was draped in a mat of banana-leaves, notched 
round the edges, and set off with brilliant colours. 

I could easily have knocked down this native, who was 
within a short length; but I thought that it was better to 
wait for real hostile demonstrations. Between Europeans 
and savages, it is proper for the Europeans to parry 
sharply, not to attack. 

During low water the natives roamed about near the 
Nautilus, but were not troublesome ; I heard them frequently 
repeat the word “Assai,” and by their gestures I under- 
stood that they invited me to go on land, an invitation that 
I declined. 

So that, on that day, the boat did not push off, to the 
great displeasure of IMaster Land, who could not complete 
his provisions. 

This adroit Canadian employed his time in preparing 
the viands and meat that he had brought off the island. As 
for the savages, they returned to the shore about eleven 
o’clock in the morning, as soon as the coral tops began to 
disappear under the rising tide; but I saw their numbers 
had increased considerably on the shore. Probably they 
came from the neighbouring islands, or very likely from 
Papua. However, I had not seen a single native canoe. Hav- 
ing nothing better to do, I thought of dragging these beau- 
tiful limpid waters, under which I saw a profusion of shells, 
zoophytes, and marine plants. Moreover, it was the last 
day that the Nautilus would pass in these parts, if it float 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 123 

in open sea the next day, according to Captain Nemo’s 
promise. 

I therefore called Conseil, who brought me a little light 
drag, very like those for the oyster fishery. Now to work! 
For two hours we fished unceasingly, but without bringing 
up any rarities. The drag was filled with midas-ears, harps, 
melames, and particularly the most beautiful hammers I 
have ever seen. We also brought up some sea-slugs, pearl- 
oysters, and a dozen little turtles that were reserved for the 
pantry on board. 

But just when I expected it least, I, put my hand on a 
wonder, I might say a natural deformity, very rarely met 
with. Conseil was just dragging, and his net came up filled 
with divers ordinary shells, when, all at once, he saw me 
plunge my arm quickly into the net, to draw out a shell, 
and heard me utter a cry. 

“What is the matter, sir.^” he asked in surprise. “Has 
master been bitten 

“No, my boy; but I would willingly have given a finger 
for my discovery.” 

“What discovery.?” 

“This shell,” I said, holding up the object of my triumph. 

“It is simply an olive porphry.” 

“Yes, Conseil; but, instead of being rolled from right to 
left, this olive turns from left to right.” 

“Is it possible.?” 

“Yes, my boy; it is a left shell.” 

Shells are all right-handed, with rare exceptions; and, 
when by chance their spiral is left, amateurs are ready to 
pay their weight in gold. 

Conseil and I were absorbed in the contemplation of our 
treasure, and I was promising myself to enrich the museum 
with it, when a stone unfortunately thrown by a native 
struck against, and broke, the precious object in Conseil’s 
hand. I uttered a cry of despair! Conseil took up his gun, 
and aimed at a savage who was poising his sling at ten yards 
from him. I would have stopped him, but his blow took 
effect and broke the bracelet of amulets which encircled 
the arm of the savage. 


124 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

“Conseil!” cried I. “Conseil!” 

“Well, sir! do you not see that the cannibal has com- 
menced the attack?” 

“A shell is not worth the life of a man,” said I. 

“Ah ! the scoundrel !” cried Conseil ; “I would rather he 
had broken my shoulder I” 

Conseil was in earnest, but I was not of his opinion. How- 
ever, the situation had changed some minutes before, and 
we had not perceived. A score of canoes surrounded the 
Nautilus. These canoes, scooped out of the trunk of a tree, 
long, narrow, well adapted for speed, were balanced by 
means of a long bamboo pole, which floated on the water. 
They were managed by skilful, half-naked paddlers, and 
I watched their advance with some uneasiness. It was evi- 
dent that these Papuans had already had dealings with the 
Europeans and knew their ships. But this long iron cylinder 
anchored in the bay, without masts or chimneys, what could 
they think of it? Nothing good, for at first they kept at a 
respectful distance. However, seeing it motionless, by de- 
grees they took courage, and sought to familiarise them- 
selves with it. Now this familiarity was precisely what it was 
necessary to avoid. Our arms, which were noiseless, could 
only produce a moderate effect on the savages, who have lit- 
tle respect for aught but blustering things. The thunderbolt 
without the reverberations of thunder would frighten man 
but little, though the danger lies in the lightning, not in 
the noise. 

At this moment the canoes approached the Nautilus, and 
a shower of arrows alighted on her. 

I went down to the saloon, but found no one there. I 
ventured to knock at the door that opened into the Captain’s 
room. “Come in,” was the answer. 

I entered, and found Captain Nemo deep in algebraical 
calculations of x and other quantities. 

“I am disturbing you,” said I, for courtesy’s sake. 

“That is true, M. Aronnax,” replied the Captain; “but 
I think you have serious reasons for wishing to see me?” 

“Very grave ones ; the natives are surrounding us in their 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 125 

canoes, and in a few minutes we shall certainly be attacked 
by many hundreds of savages.” 

“Ah !” said Captain Nemo quietly, “they are come with 
their canoes 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Well, sir, we must close the hatches.” 

“Exactly, and I came to say to you ” 

“Nothing can be more simple,” said Captain Nemo. And, 
pressing an electric button, he transmitted an order to the 
ship’s crew. 

“It is all done, sir,” said he, after some moments. “The 
pinnace is ready, and the hatches are closed. You do not 
fear, I imagine, that these gentlemen could stave in walls on 
which the balls of your frigate have had no effect.?” 

“No, Captain; but a danger still exists.” 

‘^What is that, sir.?” 

“It is that to-morrow, at about this hour, we must open 
the hatches to renew the air of the Nautilus, Now, if, at this 
moment, the Papuans should occupy the platform, I do not 
see how you could prevent them from entering.” 

“Then, sir, you suppose that they will board us.?” 

“I am certain of it.” 

“Well, sir, let them come. I see no reason for hindering 
them. After all, these Papuans are pbor creatures, and I 
am unwilling that my visit to the island should cost the life 
of a single one of these wretches.” 

Upon that I was going away; But Captain Nemo de- 
tained me, and asked me to sit down by him. He questioned 
me with interest about oiir excursions on shore, and our 
hunting ; and seemed not to understand the craving for meat 
that possessed the Canadian. Then the conversation turned 
on various subjects, and, without being more communicative. 
Captain Nemo showed himself more amiable. 

Amongst other things, we happened to speak of the situa- 
tion of the Nautilus, run aground in exactly the same spot 
in this strait where Dumont d’Urville was nearly lost. Apro- 
pos of this : 

“This D’Urville was one of your great sailors,” said the 


1^6 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

Captain to me, “one of your most intelligent navigators. He 
is the Captain Cook of you Frenchmen. Unfortunate man of 
science, after having braved the icebergs of the South Pole, 
the coral reefs of Oceania, the cannibals of the Pacific, to 
perish miserably in a railway train! If this energetic man 
could have reflected during the last moments of his life, 
what must have been uppermost in his last thoughts, do you 
suppose.^” 

So speaking. Captain Nemo seemed moved, and his emo- 
tion gave me a better opinion of him. Then, chart in hand, 
we reviewed the travels of the French navigator, his voyages 
of circumnavigation, his double detention at the South Pole, 
which led to the discovery of Adelaide and Louis Philippe, 
and fixing the hydrographical bearings of the principal is- 
lands of Oceania. 

“That which your D’Urville has done on the surface of 
the seas,” said Captain Nemo, “that have I done under 
them, and more easily, more completely than he. The Astro- 
labe and the Zelee, incessantly tossed about by the hurri- 
cane, could not be worth the Nautilus^ quiet repository of 
labour that she is, truly motionless in the midst of the 
waters. 

“To-morrow,” added the Captain, rising, “to-morrow, at 
twenty minutes to three p.m., the Nautilus shall float, and 
leave the Strait of Torres uninjured.” 

Having curtly pronounced these words. Captain Nemo 
bowed slightly. This was to dismiss me, and I went back 
to my room. 

There I found Conseil, who wished to know the result of 
my interview with the Captain. 

“My boy,” said I, “when I feigned to believe that his 
Nautilus was threatened by the natives of Papua, the Cap- 
tain answered me very sarcastically. I have but one thing 
to say to you: Have confidence in him, and go to sleep in 
peace.” 

“Have you no need of my services, sir.?” 

“No, my friend. What is Ned Land doing.?” 

“If you will excuse me, sir,” answered Conseil, “friend 
Ned is busy making a kangaroo-pie which will be a marvel.” 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 1 2T 

I remained alone and went to bed, but slept indifferently, 
I heard the noise of the savages, who stamped on the plat- 
form, uttering deafening cries. The night passed thus, with- 
out disturbing the ordinary repose of the crew. The 
presence of these cannibals affected them no more than the 
soldiers of a masked battery care for the ants that crawl 
over its front. 

At six in the morning I rose. The hatches had not been 
opened. The inner air was not renewed, but the reservoirs, 
filled ready for any emergency, were now resorted to, and 
discharged several cubic feet of oxygen into the exhausted 
atmosphere of the Nautilus, 

I worked in my room till noon, without having seen Cap- 
tain Nemo, even for an instant. On board no preparations 
for departure were visible. 

I waited still some time, then went into the large saloon. 
The clock marked half-past two. In ten minutes it would be 
high-tide : and, if Captain Nemo had not made a rash prom- 
ise, the Nautilus would be immediately detached. If not, 
many months would pass ere she could leave her bed of coral. 

However, some warning vibrations began to be felt in the 
vessel. I heard the keel grating against the rough calcareous 
bottom of the coral reef. 

At five-and-twenty minutes to three. Captain Nemo ap- 
peared in the saloon. 

“We are going to start,” said he. 

“Ah!” replied I. 

“I have given the order to open the hatches.” 

“And the Papuans 

“The Papuans?” answered Captain Nemo, slightly 
shrugging his shoulders. 

“Will they not come inside the Nautilus?^^ 

“How?” 

“Only by leaping over the hatches you have opened.” 

“M. Aronnax,” quietly answered Captain Nemo, “they 
will not enter the hatches of the Nautilus in that way, even 
if they were open.” 

I looked at the Captain. 


1^8 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

“You do not understand?” said he. 

“Hardly.” 

“Well, come and you will see.” 

I directed my steps towards the central staircase. There 
Ned Land and Conseil were slyly watching some of the 
ship’s crew, who were opening the hatches, while cries of 
rage and fearful vociferations resounded outside. 

The port lids were pulled down outside. Twenty horrible 
faces appeared. But the first native who placed his hand 
on the stair-rail, struck from behind by some invisible force, 
I know not what, fled, uttering the most fearful cries and 
making the wildest contortions. 

Ten of his companions followed him. They met with the 
same fate. 

Conseil was in ecstasy. Ned Land, carried away by his 
violent instincts, rushed on to the staircase. But the moment 
he seized the rail with both hands, he, in his turn, was 
overthrown. 

“I am struck by a thunderbolt,” cried he, with an oath. 

This explained all. It was no rail; but a metallic cable 
charged with electricity from the deck communicating with 
the platform. Whoever touched it felt a powerful shock — 
and this shock would have been mortal if Captain Nemo had 
discharged into the conductor the whole force of the current. 
It might truly be said that between his assailants and him- 
self he had stretched a network of electricity which none 
could pass with impunity. 

Meanwhile, the exasperated Papuans had beaten a retreat 
paralysed with terror. As for us, half laughing, we consoled 
and rubbed the unfortunate Ned Land, who swore like one 
possessed. 

But at this moment the Nantihis, raised by the last 
waves of the tide, quitted her coral bed exactly at the 
fortieth minute fixed by the Captain. Her screw swept the 
waters slowly and majestically. Her speed increased 
gradually, and, sailing on the surface of the ocean, she 
quitted safe and sound the dangerous passes of the Straits 
of Torres. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 129 


CHAPTER XXII 

“^GRI SOMNIa” 

T HE following day 10th January, the Nautilm continued 
her course between two seas, but with such remarkable speed 
that I could not estimate it at less than thirty-five miles an 
hour. The rapidity of her screw was such that I could 
neither follow nor count its revolutions. When I reflected 
that this marvellous electric agent, after having afforded 
motion, heat, and light to the Nautilus^ still protected her 
from outward attack, and transformed her into an ark of 
safety which no profane hand might touch without being 
thunderstricken, my admiration was unbounded, and from 
the structure it extended to the engineer who had called it 
into existence. 

Our course was directed to the west, and on the 11th of 
January we doubled Cape Wessel, situation in 135° long, 
and 10° N. lat., which forms the east point of the Gulf of 
Carpentaria. The reefs were still numerous, but more 
equalised, and marked on the chart with extreme precision. 
The Nautilus easily avoided the breakers of Money to port 
and the Victoria reefs to starboard, placed at 130° long, 
and on the 10th parallel, which we strictly followed. 

On the 13th of January, Captain Nemo arrived in the Sea 
of Timor, and recognised the island of that name in 122° 
long. 

From this point the direction of the Nautilus inclined 
towards the south-west. Her head was set for the Indian 
Ocean. Where would the fancy of Captain Nemo carry 
us next.? Would he return to the coast of Asia or would 
he approach again the shores of Europe.? Improbable con- 
jectures both, to a man who fled from inhabited continents. 
Then would he descend to the south.? Was he going to double 
the Cape of Good Hope, then Cape. Horn, and finally go as 
far as the Antarctic pole.? Would h-^ come back at last to 
the Pacific, where his Nautilus coU d sail free and inde- 
pendently.? Time would show. 

After having skirted the sf^nds ot Cartier 3 of Hibernia, 


130 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

Seringapatam, and Scott, last efforts of the solid against 
the liquid element, on the 11th of January we lost sight of 
land altogether. The speed of the Nautilus was considerably 
abated, and Avith irregular course she sometimes SAvam in 
the bosom of the waters, sometimes floated on their surface. 

During this period of the voyage. Captain Nemo made 
some interesting experiments on the varied temperature 
of the sea, in different beds. Under ordinary conditions these 
observations are made by means of rather complicated in- 
struments, and with somewhat doubtful results, by means 
of thermometrical sounding-leads, the glasses often break- 
ing under the pressure of the water, or an apparatus 
grounded on the variations of the resistance of metals to the 
electric currents. Results so obtained could not be correctly 
calculated. On the contrary. Captain Nemo went himself to 
test the temperature in the depths of the sea, and his ther- 
mometer, placed in communication with the different sheets 
of water, gave him the required degree immediately and ac- 
curately. 

It was thus that, either by overloading her reservoirs or 
by descending obliquely by means of her inclined planes, 
the Nautilus successively attained the depth of three, four, 
five, seven, nine, and ten thousand yards,, and the definite 
result of this experience was that the sea preserved an aver- 
age temperature of four degrees and a half at a depth of 
five thousand fathoms under all latitudes. 

On the 16th of January, the Nautilus seemed becalmed 
only a few yards beneath the surface of the waves. Her 
cjectric apparatus remained inactive and her motionless 
screw left her to drift at the mercy of the currents. I sup- 
posed that the crew was occupied with interior repairs, 
rendered necessary by the violence of the mechanical move- 
ments of the machine. 

My companions and I then witnessed a curious spectacle. 
The hatches of the saloon were open, and, as the beacon- 
light of the Nautilus was not in action, a dim obscurity 
reigned in the midst of the waters. I observed the state of the 
sea under these conditions, and the largest fish appeared to 
me no more than scarcely defined shadows, when the NautUm 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 151 

found herself suddenly transported into full light. I 
thought at first that the beacon had been lighted, and was 
casting its electric radiance into the liquid mass. I was mis- 
taken, and after a rapid survey perceived my error. 

The Nautilus floated in the midst of a phosphorescent bed 
which, in this obscurity, became quite dazzling. It was pro- 
duced by myriads of luminous animalculse, whose brilliancy 
was increased as they glided over the metallic hull of the 
vessel. I was surprised by, lightning in the midst of these 
luminous sheets, as though they had been rivulets of lead 
melted in an ardent furnace or metallic masses brought to 
a white heat, so that, by force of contrast, certain portions 
of light appeared to cast a shade in the midst of the general 
ignition, from which all shade seemed banished. No; this was 
not the calm irradiation of our ordinary lightning. There 
was unusual life and vigour: this was truly living light! 

In reality, it was an infinite agglomeration of coloured 
infusoria, of veritable globules of jelly, provided with a 
threadlike tentacle, and of which as many as twenty-five 
thousand have been counted in less than two cubic half- 
inches of water. 

During several hours the Nautilus floated in these brilliant 
waves, and our admiration increased as we watched the 
marine monsters disporting themselves like salamanders. 
I saw there in the midst of this fire that burns not the swift 
and elegant porpoise (the indefatigable clown of the ocean), 
and some swordfish ten feet long, those prophetic heralds 
of the hurricane whose formidable sword would now and 
then strike the glass of the saloon. Then appeared the 
smaller fish, the balista, the leaping mackerel, wolf-thorn- 
tails, and a hundred others which striped the luminous 
atmosphere as they swam. This dazzling spectacle was 
enchanting! Perhaps some atmospheric condition increased 
the intensity of this phenomenon. Perhaps some storm 
agitated the surface of the waves. But at this depth of some 
yards, the Nautilus was unmoved by its fury and reposed 
peacefully in still water. 

So we progressed, incessantly charmed by some new 
marvel. The days passed rapidly away, and I took no ac- 


132 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

count of them. Ned, according to habit, tried to vary the 
diet on board. Like snails, we were fixed to our shells, and 
I declare it is easy to lead a snail’s life. 

Thus this life seemed easy and natural, and we thought 
no longer of the life we led on land; but something hap- 
pened to recall us to the strangeness of our situation. 

On the 18th of January, the Nautilus was in 105° long, 
and 15° S. lat. The weather was threatening, the sea rough 
and rolling. There was a strong east wind. The barometer, 
which had been going down for some days, foreboded a 
coming storm. I went up on to the platform just as the 
second lieutenant was taking the measure of the horary 
angles, and waited, according to habit, till the daily phrase 
was said. But on this day it was exchanged for another 
phrase not less incomprehensible. Almost directly, I saw 
Captain Nemo appear with a glass, looking towards the 
horizon. 

For some minutes he was immovable, without taking his 
eye olf the point of observation. Then he lowered his glass 
and exchanged a few words with his lieutenant. The latter 
seemed to be a victim to some emotion that he tried in 
vain to repress. Captain Nemo, having more command over 
himself, was cool. He seemed, too, to be making some ob- 
jections to which the lieutenant replied by formal assur- 
ances. At least I concluded so by the difference of their 
tones and gestures. For myself, I had looked carefully in 
the direction indicated without seeing anything. The sky 
and water were lost in the clear line of the horizon. 

However, Captain Nemo walked from one end of the plat- 
form to the other, without looking at me, perhaps without 
seeing me. His step was firm, but less regular than usual. 
He stopped sometimes, crossed his arms, and observed the 
sea. What could he be looking for on that immense expanse.? 

The Nautilus was then some hundreds of miles from the 
nearest coast. 

The lieutenant had taken up the glass and examined the 
horizon steadfastly, going and coming, stamping his foot 
and showing more nervous agitation than his superior officer. 
Beside, this mystery must necessarily be solved, and before 


TWENTY THOUSAND TEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 133 

long; for, upon an order from Captain Nemo, the engine, 
increasing its propelling power, made the screw turn more 
rapidly. 

Just then the lieutenant drew the Captain’s attention 
again. The latter stopped walking and directed his glass 
towards the place indicated. He looked long. I felt very 
much puzzled, and descended to the drawing-room, and 
took out an excellent telescope that I generally used. Then, 
leaning on the cage of the watch-light that jutted out from 
the front of the platform, set myself to look over all the 
line of the sky and sea. 

But my eye was no sooner applied to the glass than it 
was quickly snatched out of my hands. 

I turned round. Captain Nemo was before me, but I did 
not know him. His face was transfigured. His eyes flashed 
sullenly; his teeth were set; his stiff body, clenched fists, 
and head shrunk between his shoulders, betrayed the violent 
agitation that pervaded his whole frame. He did not move. 
My glass, fallen from his hands, had rolled at his feet. 

Had I unwittingly provoked this fit of anger? Did this 
incomprehensible person imagine that I had discovered 
some forbidden secret? No; I was not the object of this 
hatred, for he was not looking at me; his eye was steadily 
fixed upon the impenetrable point of the horizon. At last 
Captain Nemo recovered himself. His agitation subsided. 
He addressed some words in a foreign language to his 
lieutenant, then turned to me. “M. Aronnax,” he said, 
in rather an imperious tone, “I require you to keep one of 
the conditions that bind you to me.” 

^‘What is it. Captain.?” 

“You must be confined, with your companions, until I 
think fit to release you.” 

“You are the master,” I replied, looking steadily at him. 
“But may I ask you one question?” 

“None, sir.” 

There was no resisting this imperious command, it would 
have been useless. I went down to the cabin occupied by 
Ned Land and Conseil, and told them the Captain’s deter- 


134 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

mination. You may judge how this communication was re* 
ceived by the Canadian. 

But there was not time for altercation. Four of the crew 
waited at the door, and conducted us to that cell where 
we had passed our first night on board the Nautilus. 

Ned Land would have remonstrated, but the door was 
shut upon him. 

‘‘Will master tell me what this means asked Conseil. 

I told my companions what had passed. They were as 
much astonished as I, and equally at a loss how to account 
for it. 

Meanwhile, I was absorbed in my own reflections, and 
could think of nothing but the strange fear depicted in the 
Captain’s countenance. I was utterly at a loss to account 
for it, when my cogitations were disturbed by these words 
from Ned Land: 

“Hallo! breakfast is ready.” 

And indeed the table was laid. Evidently Captain Nemo 
had given this order at the same time that he had hastened 
the speed of the Nautilus. 

“Will master permit me to make a recommendation.?” 
asked Conseil. 

“Yes, my boy.” 

“Well, it is that master breakfasts. It is prudent, for we 
do not know what may happen.” 

“You are right, Conseil.” 

“Unfortunately,” said Ned Land, “they have only given 
us the ship’s fare.” 

“Friend Ned,” asked Conseil, “what would you have said 
if the breakfast had been entirely forgotten.?” 

This argument cut short the harpooner’s recriminations. 

We sat down to table. The meal was eaten in silence. 

Just then the luminous globe that lighted the cell went 
out, and left us in total darkness. Ned Land was soon asleep, 
and what astonished me was that Conseil went off into a 
heavy slumber. I was thinking what could have caused his 
irresistible drowsiness, when I felt my brain becoming 
stupefied. In spite of my efforts to keep my eyes open, they 
would close. A painful suspicion seized me. Evidently 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 185 

soporific substances bad been mixed with the food we had 
just taken. Imprisonment was not enough to conceal 
Captain Nemo’s projects from us, sleep was more necessary. 
I then heard the panels shut. The undulations of the sea, 
which caused a slight rolling motion, ceased. Had the 
Nautilus quitted the surface of the ocean.? Had it gone 
back to the motionless bed of water.? I tried to resist sleep. 
It was impossible. My breathing grew weak. I felt a mortal 
cold freeze my stiffened and half-paralysed limbs. My eye- 
lids, like leaden caps, fell over my eyes. I could not raise 
them; a morbid sleep, full of hallucinations, bereft me of 
my being. Then the visions disappeared, and left me in com- 
plete insensibility. 


CHAPTER XXIII 

THE CORAL KINGDOM 

TT HE next day I woke with my head singularly clear. To 
my great surprise, I was in my own room. My companions, 
no doubt, had been reinstated in their cabin, without having 
perceived it any more than I. Of what had passed during 
the night they were as ignorant as I was, and to penetrate-^ 
this mystery I only reckoned upon the chances of the future. 

I then thought of quitting my room. Was I free again 
or a prisoner.? Quite free. I opened the door, went to the 
half-deck, went up the central stairs. The panels, shut the 
evening before, were open. I went on to the platform. 

Ned Land and Conseil waited there for me. I questioned 
them; they knew nothing. Lost in a heavy sleep in which 
they had been totally unconscious, they had been astonished 
at finding themselves in their cabin. 

As for the Nautilus^ it seemed quiet and mysterious as 
ever. It floated on the surface of the waves at a moderate 
pace. Nothing seemed changed on board. 

The second lieutenant then came on to the platform, 
and gave the usual order below. 

As for Captain Nemo., he did not appear. 


136 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

Of the people on board, I only saw the impassive steward, 
who served me with his usual dumb regularity. 

About two o’clock, I was in the drawing-room, busied 
in arranging my notes, when the Captain opened the door 
and appeared. I bowed. He made a slight inclination in 
return, without speaking. I resumed my work, hoping that 
he would perhaps give me some explanation of the events 
of the preceding night. He made none. I looked at him. 
He seemed fatigued; his heavy eyes had not been refreshed 
by sleep ; his face looked very sorrowful. He walked to and 
fro, sat down and got up again, took a chance book, put it 
down, consulted his instruments without taking his habitual 
notes, and seemed restless and uneasy. At last, he came up 
to me, and said: 

‘‘Are you a doctor, M. Aronnax.^” 

I so little expected such a question that I stared some 
time at him without answering. 

“Are you a doctor.?” he repeated. “Several of your col- 
leagues have studied medicine.” 

“Well,” said I, “I am a doctor and resident surgeon to 
the hospital. I practised several years before entering the 
museum.” 

“Very well, sir.” 

' My answer had evidently satisfied the Captain. But, not 
knowing what he would say next, I waited for other ques- 
tions, reserving my answers according to circumstances. 

“M. Aronnax, will you consent to prescribe for one of 
my men.?” he asked. 

“Is he ill.?” 

“Yes.” 

“I am ready to follow you.” 

“Come, then.” 

I own my heart beat, I do not know why. I saw certain 
connection between the illness of one of the crew and the 
events of the day before; and this mystery interested me 
at least as much as the sick man. 

Captain Nemo conducted me to the poop of the Nautilus, 
and took me into a cabin situated near the sailors’ quarters. 

There, on a bed, lay a man about forty years of age. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 137 

with a resolute expression of countenance, a true type of 
an Anglo-Saxon. 

I leant over him. He was not only ill, he was wounded. 
His head, swathed in bandages covered with blood, lay on 
a pillow. I undid the bandages, and the wounded man 
looked at me with his large eyes and gave no sign of pain 
as I did it. It was a horrible wound. The skull, shattered 
by some deadly weapon, left the brain exposed, which was 
much injured. Clots of blood had formed in the bruised 
and broken mass, in colour like the dregs of wine. 

There was both contusion and suffusion of the brain. 
His breathing was slow, and some spasmodic movements 
of the muscles agitated his face. I felt his pulse. It was inter- 
mittent. The extremities of the body were growing cold al- 
ready, and I saw death must inevitably ensue. After dressing 
the unfortunate man’s wounds, I readjusted the bandages 
on his head, and turned to Captain Nemo. 

‘‘What caused this wound?” I asked. 

“What does it signify?” he replied, evasively. “A shock 
has broken one of the levers of the engine, which struck 
myself. But your opinion as to his state?” 

I hesitated before giving it. 

“You may speak,” said the Captain. “This man does 
not understand French.” 

I gave a last look at the wounded man. 

“He will be dead in two hours.” 

“Can nothing save him?” 

“Nothing.” 

Captain Nemo’s hand contracted, and some tears glistened 
in his eyes, which I thought incapable of shedding any. 

For some moments I still watched the dying man, whose 
life ebbed slowly. His pallor increased under the electric 
light that was shed over his death-bed. I looked at his in- 
telligent forehead, furrowed with premature wrinkles, pro- 
duced probably by misfortune and sorrow. I tried to learn 
the secret of his life from the last words that escaped his 
lips. 

“You can go now, M. Aronnax,” said the Captain. 

I left him in the dying man’s cabin, and returned to my 


1S8 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

room much affected by this scene. During the whole day, 
I was haunted by uncomfortable suspicions, and at night 
I slept badly, and between my broken dreams I fancied I 
heard distant sighs like the notes of a funeral psalm. Were 
they the prayers of the dead, murmured in that language 
that I could not understand.^ 

The next morning I went on to the bridge. Captain Nemo 
was there before me. As soon as he perceived me he came 
to me. 

“Professor, will it be convenient to you to make a sub- 
marine excursion to-day.^” 

“With my companions.^” I asked. 

“If they like.” 

“We obey your orders. Captain.” 

“Will you be so good then as to put on your cork 
jackets 

It was not a question of dead or dying. I rejoined Ned 
Land and Conseil, and told them of Captain Nemo’s propo- 
sition. Conseil hastened to accept it, and this time the 
Canadian seemed quite willing to follow our example. 

It was eight o’clock in the morning. At half-past eight 
we were equipped for this new excursion, and provided with 
two contrivances for light and breathing. The double door 
was open; and, accompanied by Captain Nemo, who was 
followed by a dozen of the crew, we set foot, at a depth of 
about thirty feet, on the solid bottom on which the Nawtilus 
rested. 

A slight declivity ended in an uneven bottom, at fifteen 
fathoms depth. This bottom differed entirely from the one 
I had visited on my first excursion under the waters of the 
Pacific Ocean. Here, there was no fine sand, no submarine 
prairies, no sea-forest. I immediatel}^ recognised that mar- 
vellous region in which, on that day, the Captain did the 
honours to us. It was the coral kingdom. 

The light produced a thousand charming varieties, play- 
ing in the midst of the branches that were so vividly 
coloured. I seemed to see the membraneous and cylindrical 
tubes tremble beneath the undulation of the waters. I was 
tempted to gather their fresh petals, ornamented with deli- 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 139 

cate tentacles, some just blown, the others budding, while 
a small fish, swimming swiftly, touched them slightly, like 
flights of birds. But if my hand approached these living 
flowers, these animated, sensitive plants, the whole colony 
took alarm. The white petals re-entered their red cases, the 
flowers faded as I looked, and the bush changed into a block 
of stony knobs. 

Chance had thrown me just by the most precious speci- 
mens of the zoophyte. This coral was more valuable than 
that found in the Mediterranean, on the coasts of France, 
Italy and Barbary. Its tints justified the poetical names of 
“Flower of Blood,’^ and “Froth of Blood,” that trade has 
given to its most beautiful productions. Coral is sold for 
£20 per ounce; and in this place the watery beds would 
make the fortunes of a company of coral-divers. This 
precious matter, often confused with other polypi, formed 
then the inextricable plots called “macciota,” and on which 
I noticed several beautiful specimens of pink coral. 

Real petrified thickets, long joints of fantastic architec- 
ture, were disclosed before us. Captain Nemo placed himself 
under a dark gallery, where by a slight declivity we reached 
a depth of a hundred yards. The light from our lamps pro- 
duced sometimes magical effects, following the rough out- 
lines of the natural arches and pendants disposed like lustres, 
that were tipped with points of fire. 

At last, after w^alking two hours, we had attained a depth 
of about three hundred yards, that is to say, the extreme 
limit on which coral begins to form. But there was no 
isolated bush, nor modest brushwood, at the bottom of lofty 
trees. It was an immense forest of large mineral vegetations, 
enormous petrified trees, united by garlands of elegant sea- 
bindweed, all adorned with clouds and reflections. We passed 
freely under their high branches, lost in the shade of the 
waves. 

Captain Nemo had stopped. I and my companions halted, 
and, turning round, I saw his men were forming a semi- 
circle round their chief. Watching attentively, I observed 
that four of them carried on their shoulders an object of an 
oblong shape. 


140 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

We occupied, in this place, the centre of a vast glade 
surrounded by the lofty foliage of the submarine forest. 
Our lamps threw over this place a sort of clear twilight that 
singularly elongated the shadows on the ground. At the 
end of the glade the darkness increased, and was only re- 
lieved by little sparks reflected by the points of coral. 

Ned Land and Conseil were near me. We watched, and I 
thought I was going to witness a strange scene. On observ- 
ing the ground, I saw that it was raised in certain places by 
slight excrescences encrusted with limy deposits, and disposed 
with a regularity that betrayed the hand of man. 

In the midst of the glade, on a pedestal of rocks roughly 
piled up, stood a cross of coral that extended its long arms 
that one might have thought were made of petrified blood. 
Upon a sign from Captain Nemo one of the men ad- 
vanced; and at some feet from the cross he began to dig a 
hole with a pickaxe that he took from his belt. I under- 
stood all! This glade was a cemetery, this hole a tomb, this 
oblong object the body of the man who had died in the 
night! The Captain and his men had come to bury their 
companion in this general resting-place, at the bottom of 
this inaccessible ocean! 

The grave was being dug slowly ; the fish fled on all sides 
while their retreat was being thus disturbed; I heard the 
strokes of the pickaxe, which sparkled when it hit upon 
some flint lost at the bottom of the waters. The hole was 
soon large and deep enough to receive the body. Then the 
bearers approached; the body, enveloped in a tissue of 
white linen, was lowered into the damp grave. Captain 
Nemo, with his arms crossed on his breast, and all the 
friends of him who had loved them, knelt in prayer. 

The grave was then filled in with the rubbish taken from 
the ground, which formed a slight mound. When this was 
done. Captain Nemo and his men rose; then, approaching 
the grave, they knelt again, and all extended their hands in 
sign of a last adieu. Then the funeral procession returned 
to the Nautilus, passing under the arches of the forest, in the 
midst of thickets, along the coral bushes, and still on the 
ascent. At last the light of the ship appeared, and its 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 141 

luminous track guided us to the Nautilus. At one o’clock we 
had returned. 

As soon as I had changed my clothes I went up on to the 
platform, and, a prey to conflicting emotions, I sat down 
near the binnacle. Captain Nemo joined me. I rose and 
said to him: 

“So, as I said he would, this man died in the night 

“Yes, M. Arronax.” 

“And he rests now, near his companions, in the coral 
cemetery.?” 

“Yes, forgotten by all else, but not by us. We dug the 
grave, and the polypi undertake to seal our dead for eter- 
nity.” And, burjung his face quickly in his hands, he tried 
in vain to suppress a sob. Then he added: “Our peaceful 
cemetery is there, some hundred feet below the surface of 
the waves.” 

“Your dead sleep quietly, at least. Captain, out of the 
reach of sharks.” 

“Yes, sir, of sharks and gravely replied the 

Captain. 


Part Two 


CHAPTER I 

THE INDIAN OCEAN 

We NOW come to the second part of our journey under 
the sea. The first ended with the moving scene in the coral 
cemetery which left such a deep impression on my mind. 
Thus, in the midst of this great sea, Captain Nemo’s life 
was passing, even to his grave, which he had prepared 
in one of its deepest abysses. There, not one of the ocean’s 
monsters could trouble the last sleep of the crew of the 
Nautilus, of those friends riveted to each other in death as 
in life. “Nor any man, either,” had added the Captain. Still 
the same fierce, implacable defiance towards human society ! 

I could no longer content myself with the theory which 
satisfied Conseil. 

That worthy fellow persisted in seeing in the Commander 
of the Nautilus one of those unknown servants who return 
mankind contempt for indifference. For him, he was a mis- 
understood genius who, tired of earth’s deceptions, had 
taken refuge in this inaccessible medium, where he might 
follow his instincts freely. To my mind, this explains but one 
side of Captain Nemo’s character. Indeed, the mystery of 
that last night during which we had been chained in prison^ 
the sleep, and the precaution so violently taken by the Cap^ 
tain of snatching from my eyes the glass I had raised to 
sweep the horizon, the mortal wound of the man, due to an 
unaccountable shock of the Nautilus, all put me on a new 
track. No; Captain Nemo was not satisfied with shunning 
man. His formidable apparatus not only suited his instinct 
of freedom, but perhaps also the design of some terrible 
retaliation. 

At this moment nothing is clear to me; I catch but a 
glimpse of light amidst all the darkness, and I must confine 
myself to writing as events shall dictate. 

That day, the 24}th of January, 1868, at noon, the second 

142 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 14)3 

officer came to take the altitude of the sun. I mounted the 
platform, lit a cigar, and watched the operation. It seemed 
to me that the man did not understand French ; for several 
times I made remarks in a loud voice, which must have 
drawn from him some involuntary sign of attention, if he 
had understood them; but he remained undisturbed and 
dumb. 

As he was taking observations with the sextant, one of 
the sailors of the Nautilus (the strong man who had accom- 
panied us on our first submarine excursion to the Island of 
Crespo) came to clean the glasses of the lantern. I ex- 
amined the fittings of the apparatus, the strength of which 
was increased a hundredfold by lenticular rings, placed 
similar to those in a lighthouse, and which projected their 
brilliance in a horizontal plane. The electric, lamp was 
combined in such a way as to give its most powerful light. 
Indeed, it was produced m vacuo, which insured both its 
steadiness and its intensity. This vacuum economised the 
graphite points between which the luminous arc was devel- 
oped — an important point of economy for Captain Nemo, 
who could not easily have replaced them; and under these 
conditions their waste was imperceptible. When the Nautilus 
was ready to continue its submarine journey, I went down 
to the saloon. The panel was closed, and the course marked 
direct west. 

We were furrowing the waters of the Indian Ocean, a 
vast liquid plain, with a surface of 1,200,000,000 of acres, 
and whose waters are so clear and transparent that any one 
leaning over them would turn giddy. The Nautilus usually 
floated between fifty and a hundred fathoms deep. We went 
on so for some days. To anyone but myself, who had a great 
love for the sea, the hours would have seemed long and 
monotonous; but the daily walks on the platform, when I 
steeped myself in the reviving air of the ocean, the sight 
of the rich waters through the windows of the saloon, the 
books in the library, the compiling of my memoirs, took uj) 
all my time, and left me not a moment of ennui or weariness. 

For some days we saw a great number of aquatic birds, 
sea-mews or gulls. Some were cleverly killed and, prepared 


144 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

in a certain way, made very acceptable water-game. Amongst 
large-winged birds, carried a long distance from all lands 
and resting upon the waves from the fatigue of their flight, 
I saw some magnificent albatrosses, uttering discordant cries 
like the braying of an ass, and birds belonging to the family 
of the long-wings. 

As to the fish, they always provoked our admiration when 
we surprised the secrets of their aquatic life through the 
open panels. I saw many kinds which I never before had a 
chance of observing. 

From the 21st to the 2Srd of January the Nautilus went 
at the rate of two hundred and fifty leagues in twenty-four 
hours, being five hundred and forty miles, or twenty-two 
miles an hour. If we recognised so many different varieties 
of fish, it was because, attracted by the electric light, they 
tried to follow us; the greater part, however, were soon 
distanced by our speed, though some kept their place in 
the waters of the Nautilus for a time. The morning of the 
24th, in 12° 5' S. lat., and 94° 33' long., we observed 
Keeling Island, a coral formation, planted with magnifi- 
cent cocos, and w^hich had been visited by Mr. Darwin and 
Captain Fitzroy. The Nautilus skirted the shores of this 
desert island for a little distance. Its nets brought up numer- 
ous specimens of polypi and curious shells of mollusca. 

Soon Keeling Island disappeared from the horizon, and 
our course was directed to the north-west in the direction of 
the Indian Peninsula. 

From Keeling Island our course was slower and more 
variable, often taking us into great depths. Several times 
they made use of the inclined planes, which certain internal 
levers placed obliquely to the waterline. In that way we 
went about two miles, but without ever obtaining the great- 
est depths of the Indian Sea, which soundings of seven 
thousand fathoms have never reached. As to the tempera- 
ture of the lower strata, the thermometer invariably indi- 
cated 4° above zero. I only observed that in the upper 
regions the water was always colder in the high levels than 
at the surface of the sea. 

On the 25th of January the ocean was entirely deserted; 


twenty thousand leagues under the sea 145 

the Nautilus passed the day on the surface, beating" the 
waves with its powerful screw and making them rebound to 
a great height. Who under such circumstances would not 
have taken it for a gigantic cetacean? Three parts of this 
day I spent on the platform. I watched the sea. Nothing on 
the horizon, till about four o’clock a steamer running west 
on our counter. Her masts were visible for an instant, but 
she could not see the Nautilus, being too low in the water. I 
fancied this steamboat belonged to the P.O. Company, 
which runs from Ceylon to Sydney, touching at King 
George’s Point and Melbourne. 

At five o’clock in the evening, before that fleeting twi- 
light which binds night to day in tropical zones, Conseil 
and I were astonished by a curious spectacle. 

It was a sMoal of argonauts travelling along on the sur- 
face of the ocean. We could count several hundreds. They 
belonged to the tubercle kind which are peculiar to the 
Indian seas. 

These graceful molluscs moved backwards by means of 
their locomotive tube, through which they propelled the 
water already drawn in. Of their eight tentacles, six were 
elongated, and stretched out floating on the water, whilst 
the other two, rolled up flat, were spread to the wing like a 
light sail. I saw their spiral-shaped and fluted shells, which 
Cuvier justly compares to an elegant skiff. A boat indeed! 
It bears the creature which secretes it without its adher- 
ing to it. 

For nearly an hour the Nautilus floated in the midst of 
this shoal of molluscs. Then I know not what sudden fright 
they took. But as if at a signal every sail was furled, the 
arms folded, the body drawn in, the shells turned over, 
changing their centre of gravity, and the whole fleet dis- 
appeared under the waves. Never did the ships of a squadron 
manoeuvre with more unity. 

At that moment night fell suddenly, and the reeds, scarcely 
raised by the breeze, lay peaceably under the sides of the 
Nautilus. 

The next day, 26th of January, we cut the equator at the 
eighty-second meridian and entered the northern hemisphere. 


14j6 twenty thousand leagues under the sea 

During the day a formidable troop of sharks accompanied 
us, terrible creatures, which multiply in these seas and 
make them very dangerous. They were “cestracio philippi” 
sharks, with brown backs and whitish bellies, armed with 
eleven rows of teeth — eyed sharks — ^their throat being 
marked with a large black spot surrounded with white 
like an eye. There were also some Isabella sharks, with 
rounded snouts marked with dark spots. These powerful 
creatures often hurled themselves at the windows of the 
saloon with such violence as to make us feel very insecure. 
At such times Ned Land was no longer master of himself. 
He wanted to go to the surface and harpoon the monsters, 
particularly certain smooth-hound sharks, whose mouth is 
studded with teeth like a mosaic; and large tiger-sharks 
nearly six yards long, the last named of which seemed to 
excite him more particularly. But the Nautilus^ accelerating 
her speed, easily left the most rapid of them behind. 

The 27th of January, at the entrance of the vast Bay of 
Bengal, we met repeatedly a forbidding spectacle, dead 
bodies floating on the surface of the water. They were the 
dead of the Indian villages, carried by the Ganges to the 
level of the sea, and which the vultures, the only under- 
takers of the country, had not been able to devour. But the 
sharks did not fail to help them at their funeral work. 

About seven o’clock in the evening, the Nautilus^ half- 
immersed, was sailing in a sea of milk. At first sight the 
ocean seemed lactified. Was it the effect of the lunar rays.^^ 
No ; for the moon, scarcely two days old, was still lying 
hidden under the horizon in the rays of the sun. The whole 
sky, though lit by the sideral rays, seemed black by contrast 
with the whiteness of the waters. 

Conseil could not believe his eyes, and questioned me as 
to the cause of this strange phenomenon. Happily I was 
able to answer him. 

“It is called a milk sea,” I explained. “A large extent of 
white wavelets often to be seen on the coasts of Amboyna, 
and in these parts of the sea.” 

“But, sir,” said Conseil, “can you tell me what causes 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 14)7 

such an effect? for I suppose the water is not really turned 
into milk.” 

“No, my boy ; and the whiteness which surprises you is 
caused only by the presence of myriads of infusoria, a sort 
of luminous little worm, gelatinous and without colour, of 
the thickness of a hair, and whose length is not more than 
seven-thousandths of an inch. These insects adhere to one 
another sometimes for several leagues.”* 

“Several leagues !” exclaimed Conseil. 

“Yes, my boy ; and you need not try to compute the num- 
ber of these infusoria. You will not be able, for, if I am 
not mistaken, ships have floated on these milk seas for more 
than fort}^ miles.” 

Towards midnight the sea suddenly resumed its usual 
colour ; but behind us, even to the limits of the horizon, the 
sky reflected the whitened waves, and for a long time seemed 
impregnated with the vague glimmerings of an aurora 
borealis. 


CHAPTER II 

A NOVEL PROPOSAL OF CAPTAIN NEMo’s 

0 N THE 28th of February, when at noon the Nautilus 
came to the surface of the sea, in 9*^ 4' N. lat., there was 
land in sight about eight miles to westward. The first thing 

1 noticed was a range of mountains about two thousand feet 
high, the shapes of which were most capricious. On taking 
the bearings, I knew that we were nearing the island of 
Ceylon, the pearl which hangs from the lobe of the Indian 
Peninsula. 

Captain Nemo and his second appeared at this moment. 
The Captain glanced at the map. Then turning to me, said: 

“The Island of Ceylon, noted for its pearl-fisheries. Would 
you like to visit one of them, M. Aronnax?” 

“Certainly, Captain.” 

“Well, the thing is easy. Though, if we see the fisheries, 
we shall not see the fishermen. The annual exportation has 


148 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

not yet begun. Never mind, I will give orders to make for 
the Gulf of Manaar, where we shall arrive in the night.” 

The Captain said something to his second, who imme- 
diately went out. Soon the Nautilus returned to her native 
element, and the manometer showed that she was about thirty 
feet deep. 

“Well, sir,” said Captain Nemo, “you and your com- 
panions shall visit the Bank of Manaar, and if by chance 
some fisherman should be there, we shall see him at work.” 

“Agreed, Captain!” 

“By the bye, M. Aronnax you are not afraid of sharks.^” 

“Sharks!” exclaimed I. 

This question seemed a very hard one. 

“Well.?” continued Captain Nemo. 

“I admit, Captain, that I am not yet very familiar with 
that kind of fish.” 

‘‘We are accustomed to them,” replied Captain Nemo,, 
“and in time you wdll be too. However, we shall be armed,, 
and on the road we may be able to hunt some of the tribe.. 
It is interesting.” So, till to-morrow, sir, and early.” 

This said in a careless tone. Captain Nemo left the saloon. 
Now% if you were invited to hunt the bear in the mountains, 
of Switzerland, wdiat would you say.? 

“Very well! to-morrow w^e will go and hunt the bear.”" 
If you ^yere asked to hunt the lion in the plains of Atlas, 
or the tiger in the Indian jungles, what w^ould you say.? 

“Ha! ha! it seems w^e are going to hunt the tiger or the 
lion!” But wiien you are invited to hunt the shark in its 
natural element, you w^ould perhaps reflect before accepting 
the invitation. As for myself, I passed my hand over my 
forehead, on wiiich stood large drops of cold perspiration, 
“Let us reflect,” said I, “and take our time. Hunting otters 
in submarine forests, as w^e did in the Island of Crespo, 
will pass ; but going up and down at the bottom of the sea, 
where one is almost certain to meet sharks, is quite another 
thing! I know w^ll that in certain countries, particularly in 
the Andaman Islands, the negroes never hesitate to attack 
them with a dagger in one hand and a running noose in 
the other; but I also know that few who affront those 


TWENTY THOUSAND TEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 149 

creatures ever return alive. However, I am not a negro, and 
if I were I think a little hesitation in this case would not be 
ill-timed.’’ 

At this moment Conseil and the Canadian entered, quite 
composed, and even joyous. They knew not what awaited 
them. 

‘‘Faith, sir,” said Ned Land, “your Captain Nemo — ^the 
devil take him! — has just made us a very pleasant offer.” 

“Ah!” said I, “you know.?” 

“If agreeable to you, sir,” interrupted Conseil, “the com- 
mander of the Nautilus has invited us to visit the magnifi- 
cent Ceylon fisheries to-morrow, in your company ; he did 
it kindly, and behaved like a real gentleman.” 

“He said nothing more.?” 

“Nothing more, sir, except that he had already spoken 
to you of this little walk.” 

“Sir,” said Conseil, “would you give us some details of 
the pearl fishery.?” 

“As to the fishing itself,” I asked, “or the incidents, 
which.?” 

“On the fishing,” replied the Canadian ; “before entering 
upon the ground, it is as well to know something about it.” 

“Very well; sit down, my friends, and I will teach you.” 

Ned and Conseil seated themselves on an ottoman, and 
the first thing the Canadian asked was: 

“Sir, what is a pearl.?” 

“My worthy Ned,” I answered, “to the poet, a pearl is 
a tear of the sea; to the Orientals, it is a drop of dew 
solidified; to the ladies, it is a jewel of an oblong shape, 
of a brilliancy of mother-of-pearl substance, which they 
wear on their fingers, their necks, or their ears; for the 
chemist it is a mixture of phosphate and carbonate of lime, 
with a little gelatine ; and lastly, for naturalists, it is simply 
a morbid secretion of the organ that produces the mother- 
of-pearl amongst certain bivalves.” 

“Branch of mollusca,” said Conseil. 

“Precisely so, my learned Conseil; and, amongst these 
testacea the earshell, the tridacnae, the turbots, in a word, 
all those which secrete mother-of-pearl, that is, the blue. 


150 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

bluish, violet, or white substance which lines the interior of 
their shells, are capable of producing pearls.” , 

“Mussels too?” asked the Canadian. 

“Yes, mussels of certain waters in Scotland, Wales, Ire- 
land, Saxony, Bohemia, and France.” 

“Good ! For the future I shall pay attention,” replied the. 
Canadian. 

“But,” I continued, “the particular mollusc which secretes 
the pearl is the pearl-oyster. The pearl is nothing but a 
formation deposited in a globular form, either adhering to 
the oyster-shell or buried in the folds of the creature. On 
the shell it is fast : in the flesh it is loose ; but always has for 
a kernel a small hard substance, maybe a barren egg, maybe 
a grain of sand, around which the pearly matter deposits 
itself year after year successively, and by thin concentric 
layers.” 

“Are many pearls found in the same oyster?” asked 
Conseil. 

“Yes, my boy. Some are a perfect casket. One oyster has 
been mentioned, though I allow myself to doubt it, as having 
contained no less than a hundred and fifty sharks.” 

“A hundred and fifty sharks !” exclaimed Ned Land. 

“Did I say sharks?” said I hurriedly. “I meant to say 
a hundred and fifty pearls. Sharks would not be sense.” 

“Certainly not,” said Conseil; “but will you tell us now 
by what means they extract these pearls?” 

“They proceed in various ways. When they adhere to 
the shell, the fishermen often pull them off with pincers; 
but the most common way is to lay the oysters on mats of 
the seaweed which covers the banks. Thus they die in the 
open air ; and at the end of ten days they are in a forward 
state of decomposition. They are then plunged into large 
reservoirs of sea-water ; then they are opened and washed.” 

“The price of these pearls varies according to their size?” 
asked Conseil. 

“Not only according to their size,” I answered, “but also 
according to their shape, their water (that is, their colour), 
and their lustre: that is, that bright and diapered sparkle 
which makes them so charming to the eye. The most beau- 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 151 

tiful are called virgin pearls, or paragons. They are formed 
alone in the tissue of the mollusc, are white, often opaque, 
and sometimes have the transparency of an opal ; they are 
generally round or oval. The round are made into brace- 
lets, the oval into pendants, and, being more precious, are 
sold singly. Those adhering to the shell of the oyster are 
more irregular in shape, and are sold by weight. Lastly, in 
a lower order are classed those small pearls known under 
the name of seed-pearls ; they are sold by measure, and are 
especially used in embroidery for church ornaments.” 

‘‘But,” said Conseil, “is this pearl-fishery dangerous.^” 

“No,” I answered, quickly; “particularly if certain pre- 
cautions are taken.” 

“What does one risk in such a calling.^” said Ned Land, 
“the swallowing of some mouthfuls of sea-water.^” 

“As you say, Ned. By the bye,” said I, trying to take 
Captain Nemo’s careless tone, “are you afraid of sharks, 
brave Ned.^” 

“I!” replied the Canadian; “a harpooner by profession.? 
It is my trade to make light of them.” 

“But,” said I, “it is not a question of fishing for them 
with an iron-swivel, hoisting them into the vessel, cutting 
off their tails with a blow of a chopper, ripping them up, 
and throwing their heart into the sea !” 

“Then, it is a question of ” 

“Precisely.” 

“In the water.?” 

“In the water.” 

“Faith, with a good harpoon ! You know, sir, these sharks 
are ill-fashioned beasts. They turn on their bellies to seize 
you, and in that time ” 

Ned Land had a way of saying “seize” which made my 
blood run cold. 

“Well, and you, Conseil, what do you think of sharks.?” 

“Me!” said Conseil. “I will be frank, sir.” 

“So much the better,” thought I. 

“If you, sir, mean to face the sharks, I do not see why 
your faithful servant should not face them with you.” 


152 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

CHAPTER III 

A PEARL OF TEN MILLIONS 

The next morning at four o’clock I was awakened by tlie 
steward whom Captain Nemo had placed at my service. I 
rose hurriedly, dressed, and went into the saloon. 

Captain Nemo was awaiting me. 

‘‘M. Aronnax,” said he, “are you ready to start?” 

“I am ready.” 

“Then please to follow me.” 

“And my companions. Captain?” 

“They have been told and are waiting.” 

“Are we not to put on our diver’s dresses?” asked I. 

“Not yet. I have not allowed the Nautilus to come too 
near this coast, and we are some distance from the Manaar 
Bank; but the boat is ready, and will take us to the exact 
point of disembarking, which will save us a long way. It 
carries our diving apparatus, which we will put on when 
we begin our submarine journey.” 

Captain Nemo conducted me to the central staircase, 
which led on the platform. Ned and Conseil were already 
there, delighted at the idea of the “pleasure party” which 
was preparing. Five sailors from the Nautilus, with their 
oars, waited in the boat, which had been made fast against 
the side. 

The night was still dark. Layers of clouds covered the 
sky, allowing but few stars to be seen. I looked on the side 
where the land lay, and saw nothing but a dark line en- 
closing three parts of the horizon, from south-west to north- 
west. The Nautilus, having returned, during the night up 
the western coast of Ceylon, was now west of the bay, or 
rather gulf, formed by the mainland and the Island of 
Manaar. There, under the dark waters, stretched the pinta- 
dine bank, an inexhaustible field of pearls, the length of 
which is more than twenty miles. 

Captain Nemo, Ned Land, Conseil, and I took our places 
in the stern of the boat. The master went to the tiller; his 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 15S 

four companions leaned on their oars, the painter was cast 
off, and we sheered off. 

The boat went towards the south; the oarsmen did not 
hurry. I noticed that their strokes, strong in the water, only 
followed each other every ten seconds, according to the 
method generally adopted in the navy. Whilst the craft was 
running by its own velocity, the liquid drops struck the 
dark depths of the waves crisply like spats of melted lead. 
A little billow, spreading wide, gave a slight roll to the boat, 
and some samphire reeds flapped before it. 

We were silent. What was Captain Nemo thinking of.^ 
Perhaps of the land he was approaching, and which he 
found too near to him, contrary to the Canadian’s opinion, 
who thought it too far off. As to Conseil, he was merely 
there from curiosity. 

About half-past five the first tints on the horizon showed 
the upper line of coast more distinctly. Flat enough in the 
east, it rose a little to the south. Five miles still lay between 
us, and it was indistinct owing to the mist on the water. 
At six o’clock it became suddenly daylight, with that rapid- 
ity peculiar to tropical regions, which know neither dawn 
nor twilight. The solar rays pierced the curtain of clouds, 
piled up on the eastern horizon, and the radiant orb rose 
rapidly. I saw land distinctly, with a few trees scattered 
here and there. The boat neared Manaar Island, which was 
rounded to the south. Captain Nemo rose from his seat and 
watched the sea. 

At a sign from him the anchor was dropped, but the 
chain scarcely ran, for it was little more than a yard deep, 
and this spot was one of the highest points of the bank of 
pintadines. 

“Here we are, M. Aronnax,” said Captain Nemo. “You 
see that enclosed bay.? Here, in a month will be assembled 
the numerous fishing boats of the exporters, and these are 
the waters their divers will ransack so boldly. Happily, 
this bay is well situated for that kind of fishing. It is 
sheltered from the strongest winds; the sea is never very 
rough here, which makes it favourable for the diver’s work. 
-We will now put on our dresses, and begin our walk.” 


154 ) TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

I did not answer, and, while watching the suspected 
waves, began with the help of the sailors to put on my heavy 
sea-dress. Captain Nemo and my companions were also 
dressing. None of the Nautilus men were to accompany us 
on this new excursion. 

Soon we were enveloped to the throat in india-rubber 
clothing; the air apparatus fixed to our backs by braces. 
As to the Ruhmkorff apparatus, there was no necessity for 
it. Before putting my head into the copper cap, I had asked 
the question of the Captain. 

“They would be useless,” he replied. “We are going to 
no great depth, and the solar rays will be enough to light 
our walk. Besides, it would not be prudent to carry the 
electric light in these waters; its brilliancy might attract 
some of the dangerous inhabitants of the coast most 
inop p or t unely . ’ ’ 

As Captain Nemo pronounced these words, I turned to 
Conseil and Ned Land. But my two friends had already 
encased their heads in the metal cap, and they could neither 
hear nor answer. 

One last question remained to ask of Captain Nemo. 

“And our arms?” asked I; “our guns?” 

“Guns! What for? Do not mountaineers attack the bear 
with a dagger in their hand, and is not steel surer than 
lead? Here is a strong blade; put it in your belt, and we 
start.” 

I looked at my companions ; they were armed like us, 
and, more than that, Ned Land was brandishing an enor- 
mous harpoon, which he had placed in the boat before leav- 
ing the Nautilus, 

Then, following the Captain’s example, I allowed myself 
to be dressed in the heavy copper helmet, and our reservoirs 
of air were at once in activity. An instant after we were 
landed, one after the other, in about two yards of water 
upon an even sand. Captain Nemo made a sign with his 
hand, and we followed him by a gentle declivity till we dis- 
appeared under the waves. 

At about seven o’clock we found ourselves at last survey- 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 155 

ing the oyster-banks on which the pearl-oysters are repro- 
duced by millions. 

Captain Nemo pointed with his hand to the enormous 
heap of oysters ; and I could well understand that this mine 
was inexhaustible, for Nature’s creative power is far be- 
yond man’s instinct of destruction. Ned Land, faithful to 
his instinct, hastened to fill a net which he carried by his 
side with some of the finest specimens. But we could not 
stop. We must follow the Captain, who seemed to guide him- 
self by paths known only to himself. The ground was sen- 
sibly rising, and sometimes, on holding up my arm, it was 
above the surface of the sea. Then the level of the bank 
would sink capriciously. Often we rounded high rocks 
scarped into pyramids. In their dark fractures huge Crusta- 
cea, perched upon their high claws like some war-machine, 
watched us with fixed eyes, and under our feet crawled vari- 
ous kinds of annelides. 

At this moment there opened before us a large grotto 
dug in a picturesque heap of rocks and carpeted with all 
the thick warp of the submarine flora. At first it seemed very 
dark to me. The solar rays seemed to be extinguished by 
successive gradations, until its vague transparency became 
nothing more than drowned light. Captain Nemo entered; 
we followed. My eyes soon accustomed themselves to this 
relative state of darkness. I could distinguish the arches 
springing capriciously from natural pillars, standing broad 
upon their granite base, like the heavy columns of Tuscan 
architecture. Why had our incomprehensible guide led us 
to the bottom of this submarine crypt.? I was soon to know. 
After descending a rather sharp declivity, our feet trod the 
bottom of a kind of circular pit. There Captain Nemo 
stopped, and with his hand indicated an object I had not yet 
perceived. It was an oyster of extraordinary dimensions, 
a gigantic tridacne, a goblet which could have contained 
a whole lake of holy-water, a basin the breadth of which 
was more than two yards and a half, and consequently 
larger than that ornamenting the saloon of the Nautilus. 
I approached this extraordinary mollusc. It adhered by its 
filam^ents to a table of granite, and there, isolated, it devel- 


156 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

oped itself in the calm waters of the grotto. I estimated 
the weight of this tridacne at 600 lb. Such an oyster would 
contain SO lb. of meat ; and one must have the stomach of a 
Gargantua to demolish some dozens of them. 

Captain Nemo was evidently acquainted with the exist- 
ence of this bivalve, and seemed to have a particular motive 
in verifying the actual state of this tridacne. The shells 
were a little open; the Captain came near and put his 
dagger between to prevent them from closing; then with 
his hand he raised the membrane with its fringed edges, 
which formed a cloak for the creature. There, between the 
folded plaits, I saw a loose pearl, whose size equalled that 
of a coco-nut. Its globular shape, perfect clearness, and 
admirable lustre made it altogether a jewel of inestimable 
value. Carried away by my curiosity, I stretched out my 
hand to seize it, weigh it, and touch it; but the Captain 
stopped me, made a sign of refusal, and quickly withdrew 
his dagger, and the two shells closed suddenly. I then 
understood Captain Nemo’s intention. In leaving this pearl 
hidden in the mantle of the tridacne he was allomng it to 
grow slowly. Each year the secretions of the mollusc would 
add new concentric circles. I estimated its value at £500,000 
at least. 

After ten minutes Captain Nemo stopped suddenly. I 
thought he had halted previously to returning. No ; by a 
gesture he bade us crouch beside him in a deep fracture of 
the rock, his hand pointed to one part of the liquid mass, 
which I watched attentively. 

About five yards from me a shadow appeared, and sank 
to the ground. The disquieting idea of sharks shot through 
my mind, but I was mistaken; and once again it was not a 
monster of the ocean that we had anything to do with. 

It was a man, a living man, an Indian, a fisherman, a 
poor devil who, I suppose, had come to glean before the 
harvest. I could see the bottom of his canoe anchored some 
feet above his head. He dived and went up successively. A 
stone held between his feet, cut in the shape of a sugar loaf, 
whilst a rope fastened him to his boat, helped him to descend 
more rapidly. This was all his apparatus. Reaching the bot- 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 157 

tom, about five yards deep, he went on his knees and filled 
his bag with oysters picked up at random. Then he went up, 
emptied it, pulled up his stone, and began the operation 
once more, which lasted thirty seconds. 

The diver did not see us. The shadow of the rock hid us 
from sight. And how should this poor Indian ever dream 
that men, beings like himself, should be there under the 
water watching his movements and losing no detail of the 
fishing Several times he went up in this way, and dived 
again. He did not carry away more than ten at each plunge, 
for he was obliged to pull them from the bank to which 
they adhered by means of their strong byssus. And how 
many of those oysters for which he risked his life had no 
pearl in them! I watched him closely; his manoeuvres were 
regular; and for the space of half an hour no danger ap- 
peared to threaten him. 

I was beginning to accustom myself to the sight of this 
interesting fishing, when suddenly, as the Indian was on 
the ground, I saw him make a gesture of terror, rise, and 
make a spring to return to the surface of the sea. 

I understood his dread. A gigantic shadow appeared just 
above the unfortunate diver. It was a shark of enormous size 
advancing diagonally, his eyes on fire, and his jaws open. 
I was mute with horror and unable to move. 

The voracious creature shot towards the Indian, who 
threw himself on one side to avoid the shark’s fins ; but not 
its tail, for it struck his chest and stretched him on the 
ground. 

This scene lasted but a few seconds: the shark returned, 
and, turning on his back, prepared himself for cutting the 
Indian in two, when I saw Captain Nemo rise suddenly, 
and then, dagger in hand, walk straight to the monster, 
ready to fight face to face with him. The very moment the 
shark was going to snap the unhappy fisherman in two, he 
perceived his new adversary, and, turning over, made 
straight towards him. 

I can still see Captain Nemo’s position. Holding himself 
well together, he waited for the shark with admirable cool- 
ness ; and, when it rushed at him, threw himself on one side 


158 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

with wonderful quickness, avoiding the shock, and burying 
his dagger deep into its side. But it was not all over. A 
terrible combat ensued. 

The shark had seemed to roar, if I might say so. The 
blood rushed in torrents from its wound. The sea was dyed 
red, and through the opaque liquid I could distinguish 
nothing more. Nothing more until the moment when, like 
lightning, I saw the undaunted Captain hanging on to one 
of the creature’s fins, struggling, as it were, hand to hand 
with the monster, and dealing successive blows at his enemy, 
yet still unable to give a decisive one. 

The shark’s struggles agitated the water with such fury 
that the rocking threatened to upset me. 

I wanted to go to the Captain’s assistance, but, nailed to 
the spot with horror, I could not stir. 

I saw the haggard eye ; I saw the different phases of the 
fight. The Captain fell to the earth, upset by the enormous 
mass which leant upon him. The shark’s jaws opened wide, 
like a pair of factory shears, and it would have been all 
over with the Captain; but, quick as thought, harpoon in 
hand, Ned Land rushed towards the shark and struck it 
with its sharp point. 

The waves were impregnated with a mass of blood. They 
rocked under the shark’s movements, which beat them with 
indescribable fury. Ned Land had not missed his aim. It 
was the monster’s death-rattle. Struck to the heart, it strug- 
gled in dreadful convulsions, the shock of which overthrew 
Conseil. 

But Ned Land had disentangled the Captain, who, getting 
up without any wound, went straight to the Indian, quickly 
cut the cord which held him to his stone, took him in his 
arms, and, with a, sharp blow of his heel, mounted to the 
surface. 

We all three followed in a few seconds, saved by a miracle, 
and reached the fisherman’s boat. 

Captain Nemo’s first care was to recall the unfortunate 
man to life again. I did not think he could succeed. I hoped 
so, for the poor creature’s immersion was not long ; but the 
blow from the shark’s tail might have been his death-blow. 


TWENTY THOUSAND DEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 159 

Happily, with the Captain’s and Conseil’s sharp friction, 
I saw consciousness return by degrees. He opened his eyes. 
What was his surprise, his terror even, at seeing four great 
copper heads leaning over him! And, above all, what must 
he have thought when Captain Nemo, drawing from the 
pocket of his dress a bag of pearls, placed it in his hand! 
This munificent charity from the man of the waters to the 
poor Cingalese was accepted with a trembling hand. His 
wondering eyes showed that he knew not to what super- 
human beings he owed both fortune and life. 

At a sign from the Captain we regained the bank, and, 
following the road already traversed, came in about half 
an hour to the anchor v Inch held the canoe of the Nautilus 
to the earth. 

Once on board, we each, with the help of the sailors, got 
rid of the heavy copper helmet. 

Captain Nemo’s first word was to the Canadian. 

“Thank you. Master Land,” said he. 

“It was in revenge. Captain,” replied Ned Land. “I owed 
you that.” 

A ghastly smile passed across the Captain’s lips, and that 
was all. 

“To the Nautilus,^’ said he. 

The boat flew over the waves. Some minutes after we met 
the shark’s dead body floating. By the black marking of 
the extremity of its fins, I recognised the terrible mel- 
anopteron of the Indian Seas, of the species of shark so 
properly called. It was more than twenty-five feet long; its 
enormous mouth occupied one-third of its body. It was an 
adult, as was known by its six row^s of teeth placed in an 
isosceles triangle in the upper jaw. 

Whilst I Avas contemplating this inert mass, a dozen of 
these voracious beasts appeared round the boat; and, with- 
out noticing us, threw themselves upon the dead body and 
fought with one another for the pieces. 

At half-past eight w^e were again on board the Nautilus. 
There I reflected on the incidents which had taken place 
in our excursion to the Manaar Bank. 

Two conclusions I must inevitably draw from it — one 


160 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

bearing upon the unparalleled courage of Captain Nemo, 
the other upon his devotion to a human being, a representa- 
tive of that race from which he fled beneath the sea. What- 
ever he might say, this strange man had not yet succeeded 
in entirely crushing his heart. 

When I made this observation to him, he answered in a 
slightly moved tone : 

‘‘That Indian, sir, is an inhabitant of an oppressed 
country ; and I am still, and shall be, to my last breath, 
one of them!” 


CHAPTER IV 

THE RED SEA 

In the course of the day of the 29th of January, the 
island of Ceylon disappeared under the horizon, and 
the Nautilus, at a speed of twenty miles an hour, slid into the 
labyrinth of canals which separate the Maldives from the 
Laccadives. It coasted even the Island of Kiltan, a land 
originally coraline, discovered by Vasco da Gama in 1499, 
and one of the nineteen principal islands of the Laccadive 
Archipelago, situated between 10° and 14° 30' N. lat., 
and 69° 50' 72" E. long. 

We had made 16,220 miles, or 7,500 (French) leagues 
from our starting-point in the Japanese Seas. 

The next day (30th January), when the Nautilus went 
to the surface of the ocean there was no land in sight. Its 
course was N.N.E., in the direction of the Sea of Oman, 
between Arabia and the Indian Peninsula, which serves as 
an outlet to the Persian Gulf. It was evidently a block with- 
out any possible egress. Where was Captain Nemo taking 
us to? I could not say. This, however, did not satisfy the 
Canadian, who that day came to me asking where we were 
going. 

“We are going where our Captain’s fancy takes us. 
Master Ned.” 

“His fancy cannot take us far, then,” said the Canadian. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 161 

“The Persian Gulf has no outlet: and, if we do go in, it 
will not be long before we are out again.” 

“Very well, then, we will come out again. Master Land; 
and if, after the Persian Gulf, the Nautilus would like to 
visit the Red Sea, the Straits of Bab-el-mandeb are there 
to give us entrance.” 

“I need not tell you, sir,” said Ned Land, “that the Red 
Sea is as much closed as the Gulf, as the Isthmus of Suez 
is not yet cut; and, if it was, a boat as mysterious as ours 
would not risk itself in a canal cut with sluices. And again, 
the Red Sea is not the road to take us back to Europe.” 

“But I never said we were going back to Europe.” 

“What do you suppose, then.?” 

“I suppose that, after visiting the curious coasts of 
Arabia and Egypt, the Nautilus will go down the Indian 
Ocean again, perhaps cross the Channel of Mozambique, 
perhaps off the Mascarenhas, so as to gain the Cape of 
Good Hope.” 

“And once at the Cape of Good Hope.?” asked the Cana- 
dian, with peculiar emphasis. 

“Well, we shall penetrate into that Atlantic which we 
do not yet know. Ah! friend Ned, you are getting tired of 
this journey under the sea; you are surfeited with the in- 
cessantly varying spectacle of submarine wonders. For my 
part, I shall be sorry to see the end of a voyage which it is 
given to so few men to make.” 

For four days, till the 3rd of February, the Nautilus 
scoured the Sea of Oman, at various speeds and at various 
depths. It seemed to go at random, as if hesitating as to 
which road it should follow, but we never passed the Tropic 
of Cancer. 

In quitting this sea we sighted Muscat for an instant, 
one of the most important towns of the country of Oman. 
I admired its strange aspect, surrounded by black rocks 
upon which its white houses and forts stood in relief. I saw 
the rounded domes of its mosques, the elegant points of its 
minarets, its fresh and verdant terraces. But it was only a 
vision ! The Nautilus soon sank under the waves of that part 
of the sea. 


162 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

We passed along the Arabian coast of Mahrah and 
Hadramaut, for a distance of six miles, its undulating line 
of mountains being occasionally relieved by some ancient 
ruin. The 5th of February we at last entered the Gulf of 
Aden, a perfect funnel introduced into the neck of Bab-el- 
mandeb, through which the Indian waters entered the Red 
Sea. 

The 6th of February, the Nautilus floated in sight of 
Aden, perched upon a promontory which a narrow isthmus 
joins to the mainland, a kind of inaccessible Gibraltar, the 
fortifications of which were rebuilt by the Engl.sh after 
taking possession in 1839. I caught a glimpse of the octagon 
minarets of this town, which was at one time the richest 
commercial magazine on the coast. 

I certainly thought that Captain Nemo, arrived at this 
point, would back out again; but I was mistaken, for he 
did no such thing, much to my surprise. 

The next day, the 7th of February, we entered the Straits 
of Bab-el-mandeb, the name of which, in the Arab tongue, 
means The Gate of Tears. 

To twenty miles in breadth, it is only thirty-two in length. 
And for the Nautilus, starting at full speed, the crossing 
was scarcely the work of an hour. But I saw nothing, not 
even the Island of Perim, with which the British Govern- 
ment has fortified the position of Aden. There were too many 
English or French steamers of the line of Suez to Bombay, 
Calcutta to Melbourne, and from Bourbon to the Mauritius, 
furrowing this narrow passage, for the Nautilus to venture 
to show itself. So it remained prudently below. At last about 
noon, we were in the waters of the Red Sea. 

I would not even seek to understand the caprice which 
had decided Captain Nemo upon entering the gulf. But 
I quite approved of the Nautilus entering it. Its speed was 
lessened: sometimes it kept on the surface, sometimes it 
dived to avoid a vessel, and thus I was able to observe the 
upper and lower parts of this curious sea. 

The 8th of February, from the first dawn of day. Mocha 
came in sight, now a ruined town, whose walls would fall 
at a gunshot, yet which shelters here and there some verdant 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 163 

date-trees ; once an important city, containing six public 
markets, and twenty-six mosques, and whose walls, defended 
by fourteen forts, formed a girdle of two miles in circum- 
ference. 

The Nautilus then approached the African shore, where 
the depth of the sea was greater. There, between two waters 
clear as crystal, through the open panels we were allowed 
to contemplate the beautiful bushes of brilliant coral and 
large blocks of rock clothed with a splendid fur of green 
algae and fuci. What an indescribable spectacle, and what 
variety of sites and landscapes along these sandbanks and 
volcanic islands which bound the Libyan coast! But where 
these shrubs appeared in all their beauty was on the eastern 
coast, which the Nautilus soon gained. It was on the coast of 
Tehama, for there not only did this display of zoophytes 
flourish beneath the level of the sea, but they also formed 
picturesque interfacings which unfolded themselves about 
sixty feet above the surface, more capricious but less highly 
coloured than those whose freshness was kept up by the vital 
power of the waters. 

What charming hours I passed thus at the window of the 
saloon! What new specimens of submarine flora and fauna 
did I admire under the brightness of our electric lantern! 

The 9th of February the Nautilus floated in the broadest 
part of the Red Sea, which is comprised between Souakin, 
on the west coast, and Komfidah, on the east coast, with 
a diameter of ninety miles. 

That day at noon, after the bearings were taken. Captain 
Nemo mounted the platform, where I happened to be, and 
I was determined not to let him go down again without at 
least pressing him regarding his ulterior projects. As soon 
as he saw me he approached and graciously offered me a 
cigar. 

“Well, sir, does this Red Sea please you.? Have you 
sufficiently observed the wonders it covers, its fishes, its 
zoophytes, its parterres of sponges, and its forests of coral? 
Did you catch a glimpse of the towns on its borders?” 

“Yes, Captain Nemo,” I replied; “and the Nautilus is 


164 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

wonderfully fitted for such a study. Ah! it is an intelligent 
boat 1” 

“Yes, sir, intelligent and invulnerable. It fears neither 
the terrible tempests of the Red Sea, nor its currents, nor 
its sandbanks.” 

“Certainly,” said I, “this sea is quoted as one of the 
worst, and in the time of the ancients, if I am not mistaken, 
its reputation was detestable.” 

“Detestable, M. Aronnax. The Greek and Latin histor- 
ians do not speak favourably of it, and Strabo says it is 
very dangerous during the Etesian winds and in the rainy 
season. The Arabian Edrisi portrays it under the name of 
the Gulf of Colzoum, and relates that vessels perished there 
in great numbers on the sandbanks and that no one would 
risk sailing in the night. It is, he pretends, a sea subject 
to fearful hurricanes, strewn with inhospitable islands, and 
Vhich offers nothing good either on its surface or in its 
depths.’ ” 

“One may see,” I replied, “that these historians never 
sailed on board the Nautiliis.^’ 

“Just so,” replied the Captain, smiling; “and in that 
respect moderns are not more advanced than the ancients. 
It required many ages to find out the mechanical power 
of steam. Who knows if, in another hundred years, we may 
not see a second Nautilus^ Progress is slow, M. Aronnax.” 

“It is true,” I answered ; “your boat is at least a century 
before its time, perhaps an era. What a misfortune that the 
secret of such an invention should die with its inventor!” 

Captain Nemo did not reply. After some minutes’ silence 
he continued: 

“You were speaking of the opinions of ancient historians 
upon the dangerous navigation of the Red Sea.” 

“It is true,” said I; “but were not their fears exag- 
gerated 

“Yes and no, M. Aronnax,” replied Captain Nemo, who 
seemed to know the Red Sea by heart. “That which is no 
longer dangerous for a modern vessel, well rigged, strongly 
built, and master of its own course, thanks to obedient 
steam, offered all sorts of perils to the ships of the ancients. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 165 

Picture to yourself those first navigators venturing in ships 
made of planks sewn with the cords of the palmtree, satu- 
rated with the grease of the seadog, and covered with 
powdered resin ! They had not even instruments wherewith 
to take their bearings, and they went by guess amongst 
currents of which they scarcely knew anything. Under such 
conditions shipwrecks were, and must have been, numerous. 
But in our time, steamers running between Suez and the 
South Seas have nothing more to fear from the fury of this 
gulf, in spite of contrary trade-winds. The captain and 
passengers do not prepare for their departure by offering 
propitiatory sacrifices ; and, on their return, they no longer 
go ornamented with wreaths and gilt fillets to thank the gods 
in the neighbouring temple.” 

“I agree with you,” said I ; “and steam seems to have 
killed all gratitude in the hearts of sailors. But, Captain, 
since you seem to have especially studied this sea, can you 
tell me the origin of its name.^^” 

“There exist several explanations on the subject, M. 
Aronnax. Would you like to know the opinion of a chron- 
icler of the fourteenth century 

“Willingly.” 

“This fanciful writer pretends that its name was given 
to it after the passage of the Israelites, when Pharaoh 
perished in the waves which closed at the voice of Moses.” 

“A poet’s explanation. Captain Nemo,” I replied; “but 
I cannot content myself with that. I ask you for your per- 
sonal opinion.” 

“Here it is, M. Aronnax. According to my idea, we must 
see in this appellation of the Red Sea a translation of the 
Hebrew word ‘Edom’ ; and if the ancients gave it that name, 
it w^as on account of the particular colour of its waters.” 

“But up to this time I have seen nothing but transparent 
waves and without any particular colour.” 

“Very likely; but as we advance to the bottom of the 
gulf, you will see this singular appearance. I remember 
seeing the Bay of Tor entirely red, like a sea of blood.” 

“And you attribute this colour to the presence of a 
microscopic seaweed.^” 


166 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

“Yes.” 

“So, Captain Nemo, it is not the first time you have 
overrun the Red Sea on board the NautUus?^^ 

“No, sir.” 

“As you spoke a while ago of the passage of the Israelites 
and of the catastrophe to the Egyptians, I will ask whether 
you have met with the traces under the water of this great 
historical fact.?” 

“No, sir; and for a good reason.” 

“What is it.?” 

“It is that the spot where Moses and his people passed 
is now so blocked up with sand that the camels can barely 
bathe their legs there. You can well understand that there 
would not be water enough for my Nautilus.^’ 

“And the spot.?” I asked. 

“The spot is situated a little above the Isthmus of Suez, 
in the arm which formerly made a deep estuary, when the 
Red Sea extended to the Salt Lakes. Now, whether this 
passage were miraculous or not, the Israelites, nevertheless, 
crossed there to reach the Promised Land, and Pharaoh’s 
army perished precisely on that spot ; and I think that exca- 
vations made in the middle of the sand would bring to light 
a large number of arms and instruments of Egyptian 
origin.” 

“That is evident,” I replied; “and for the sake of ar- 
chaeologists let us hope that these excavations will be made 
sooner or later, when new towns are established on the isth- 
mus, after the construction of the Suez Canal; a canal, 
however, very useless to a vessel like the NautUus.^^ 

“Very likely; but useful to the whole world,” said Captain 
Nemo. “The ancients well understood the utility of a com- 
munication between the Red Sea and the INIediterranean for 
their commercial affairs: but they did not think of digging 
a canal direct, and took the Nile as an intermediate. Very 
probably the canal which united the Nile to the Red Sea 
was begun by Sesostris, if we may believe tradition. One 
thing is certain, that in the year 615 before Jesus Christ, 
Necos undertook the works of an alimentary canal to the 
waters of the Nile across the plain of Egypt, looking to- 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 167 

wards Arabia. It took four days to go up this canal, and it 
was so wide that two triremes could go abreast. It was car- 
ried on b}^ Darius, the son of Hystaspes, and probably fin- 
ished by Ptolemy II. Strabo saw it navigated: but its de- 
cline from the point of departure, near Bubastes, to the 
Red Sea was so slight that it was only navigable for a few 
months in the year. This canal answered all commercial 
purposes to the age of Antonius, when it was abandoned and 
blocked up with sand. Restored by order of the Caliph 
Omar, it was definitely destroyed in 761 or 762 by Caliph 
Al-Mansor, who wished to prevent the arrival of provisions 
to Mohammed-ben- Abdallah, who had revolted against him. 
During the expedition into Egypt, your General Bonaparte 
discovered traces of the works in the Desert of Suez; and, 
surprised by the tide, he nearly perished before regaining 
Hadjaroth, at the very place where Moses had encamped 
three thousand years before him.” 

‘‘Well, Captain, what the ancients dared not undertake, 
this junction between the two seas, which will shorten the 
road from Cadiz to India, M. Lesseps has succeeded in 
doing; and before long he will have changed Africa into 
an immense island.” 

“Yes, M. Aronnax; you have the right to be proud of 
your countryman. Such a man brings more honour to a 
nation than great captains. He began, like so many others, 
with disgust and rebuffs; but he has triumphed, for he has 
the genius of will. And it is sad to think that a work like 
that, which ought to have been an international work and 
which would have sufficed to make a reign illustrious, should 
have succeeded by the energy of one man. All honour to 
M. Lesseps!” 

“Yes! honour to the great citizen,” I replied, surprised 
by the manner in which Captain Nemo had just spoken. 

“Unfortunately,” he continued, “I cannot take you 
through the Suez Canal ; but you will be able to see the long 
jetty of Port Said after to-morrow, when we shall be in the 
Mediterranean . ’ ’ 

“The Mediterranean!” I exclaimed. 

“Yes, sir; does that astonish you?” 


168 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

“What astonishes me is to think that we shall be there the 
day after to-morrow.” 

“Indeed?” 

“Yes, Captain, although by this time I ought to have 
accustomed myself to be surprised at nothing since I have 
been on board your boat.” 

“But the cause of this surprise?” 

“Well! it is the fearful speed you will have to put on the 
Nautilus, if the day after to-morrow she is to be in the 
Mediterranean, having made the round of Africa, and 
doubled the Cape of Good Hope 1” 

“Who told you that she would make the round of Africa 
and double the Cape of Good Hope, sir?” 

“Well, unless the Nautilus sails on dry land, and passes 
above the isthmus ” 

“Or beneath it, M. Aronnax.” 

“Beneath it?” 

“Certainly,” replied Captain Nemo quietly. “A long 
time ago Nature made under this tongue of land what man 
has this day made on its surface.” 

“What! such a passage exists?” 

“Yes; a subterranean passage, which I have named the 
Arabian Tunnel. It takes us beneath Suez and opens into 
the Gulf of Pelusium.” 

“But this isthmus is composed of nothing but quick- 
sands ?” 

“To a certain depth. But at fifty-five yards only there is 
a solid layer of rock.” 

“Did you discover this passage by chance?” I asked more 
and more surprised. 

Chance and reasoning, sir ; and by reasoning even more 
than by chance. Not only does this passage exist, but I 
have profited by it several times. Without that I should 
not have ventured this day into the impassable Red Sea. 
I noticed that in the Red Sea and in the IMediterranean 
there existed a certain number of fishes of a kind perfectly 
identical. Certain of the fact, I asked myself was it possible 
that there was no communication between the two seas? If 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 169 

there was, the subterranean current must necessarily run 
from the Red Sea to the Mediterranean, from the sole cause 
of difference of level. I caught a large number of fishes in 
the neighbourhood of Suez. I passed a copper ring through 
their tails, and threw them back into the sea. Some months 
later, on the coast of Syria, I caught some of my fish orna- 
mented with the ring. Thus the communication between 
the two was proved. I then sought for it with my Nautilus ; 
I discovered it, ventured into it, and before long, sir, you 
too will have passed through my Arabian tunnel!” 


CHAPTER V 

THE ARABIAN TUNNEL 

TT HAT same evening, in 21° 30' N. lat., the Nautilus floated 
on the surface of the sea, approaching the Arabian coast. 
I saw Djeddah, the most important counting-house of 
Egypt, Syria, Turkey, and India. I distinguished clearly 
enough its buildings, the vessels anchored at the quays, 
and those whose draught of water, obliged them to anchor 
in the roads. The sun, rather low on the horizon, struck 
full on the houses of the town, bringing out their whiteness. 
Outside, some wooden cabins, and some made of reeds, 
showed the quarter inhabited by the Bedouins.. Soon 
Djeddah was shut out from view by the shadows of night, 
and the Nautilus found herself under water slightly phos- 
phorescent. 

The next day, the 10th of February, we sighted several 
ships running to windward. The Nautilus returned to its 
submarine navigation ; but at noon, when her bearings were 
taken, the sea being deserted, she rose again to her 
waterline. 

Accompanied by Ned and Conseil, I seated myself on the 
platform. The coast on the eastern side looked like a mass 
faintly printed upon a damp fog. 

We were leaning on the sides of the pinnace, talking of 


170 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

one thing and another, when Ned Land, stretching out his 
hand towards a spot on the sea, said: 

‘‘Do you see anything there, sir?” 

“No, Ned,” I replied; “but I have not your eyes, you 
know.” 

“Look well,” said Ned, “there, on the starboard beam, 
about the height of the lantern! Do you not see a mass 
which seems to move?” 

“Certainly,” said I, after close attention; “I see some- 
thing like a long black body on the top of the water.” 

And certainly before long the black object was not more 
than a mile from us. It looked like a great sandbank de- 
posited in the open sea. It was a gigantic dugong I 

Ned Land looked eagerly. His eyes shone with covetous- 
ness at the sight of the animal. His hand seemed ready to 
harpoon it. One would have thought he was awaiting the 
moment to throw himself into the sea and attack it in its 
element. 

At this instant Captain Nemo appeared on the platform. 
He saw the dugong, understood the Canadian’s attitude, 
and, addressing him, said: 

“If you held a harpoon just now, Master Land, would 
it not burn your hand?” 

“Just so, sir.” 

“And you would not be sorry to go back, for one day, 
to your trade of a fisherman and to add this cetacean to 
the list of those you have already killed?” 

“I should not, sir.” 

“Well, you can try.” 

“Thank you, sir,” said Ned Land, his eyes flaming. 

“Only,” continued the Captain, “I advise you for your 
own sake not to miss the creature.” 

“Is the dugong dangerous to attack?” I asked, in spite 
of the Canadian’s shrug of the shoulders. 

“Yes,” replied the Captain ; “sometimes the animal turns 
upon its assailants and overturns their boat. But for 
Master Land this danger is not to be feared. His eye is 
prompt, his arm sure.” 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 171 

At this moment seven men of the crew, mute and immov- 
able as ever, mounted the platform. One carried a harpoon 
and a line similar to those employed in catching whales. 
The pinnace was lifted from the bridge, pulled from its 
socket, and let down into the sea. Six oarsmen took their 
seats, and the coxswain went to the tiller. Ned, Conseil, and 
I went to the back of the boat. 

‘‘You are not coming. Captain.^” I asked. 

“No, sir ; but I wish you good sport.” 

The boat put off, and, lifted by the six rowers, drew 
rapidly towards the dugong, which floated about two miles 
from the Nautilus. 

Arrived some cables-length from the cetacean, the speed 
slackened, and the oars dipped noiselessly into the quiet 
waters. Ned Land, harpoon in hand, stood in the fore part 
of the boat. The harpoon used for striking the whale is 
generally attached to a very long cord which runs out 
rapidly as the wounded creature draws it after him. But 
here the cord was not more than ten fathoms long, and 
the extremity was attached to a small barrel which, by float- 
ing, was to show the course the dugong took under the 
water. 

I stood and carefully watched the Canadian’s adversary. 
This dugong, which also bears the name of the halicore, 
closely resembles the manatee; its oblong body terminated 
in a lengthened tail, and its lateral fins in perfect fingers. 
Its difference from the manatee consisted in its upper jaw, 
which was armed with two long and pointed teeth which 
formed on each side diverging tusks. 

This dugong which Ned Land was preparing to attack 
was of colossal dimensions; it was more than seven yards 
long. It did not move, and seemed to be sleeping on the 
waves, which circumstance made it easier to capture. 

The boat approached within six yards of the animah 
The oars rested on the rowlocks. I half rose. Ned Land, 
his body thrown a little back, brandished the harpoon in 
his experienced hand. 

Suddenly a hissing noise was heard, and the dugong dis- 


172 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

appeared. The harpoon, although thrown with great force; 
had apparently only struck the water. 

‘‘Curse it!” exclaimed the Canadian furiously; “I have 
missed it 1” 

“No,” said I; “the creature is wounded — look at the 
blood; but your weapon has not stuck in his body.” 

“My harpoon I my harpoon I” cried Ned Land. 

The sailors rowed on, and the coxswain made for the 
floating barrel. The harpoon regained, we followed in pur- 
suit of the animal. 

The latter came now and then to the surface to breathe. 
Its wound had not weakened it, for it shot onwards with 
great rapidity. 

The boat, rowed by strong arms, flew on its track. Several 
times it approached within some few yards, and the Cana- 
dian was ready to strike, but the dugong made off with a 
sudden plunge, and it was impossible to reach it. 

Imagine the passion which excited impatient Ned Land! 
He hurled at the unfortunate creature the most energetic 
expletives in the English tongue. For my part, I was only 
vexed to see the dugong escape all our attacks. 

We pursued it without relaxation for an hour, and I 
began to think it would prove difficult to capture, when 
the animal, possessed with the perverse idea of vengeance 
of which he had cause to repent, turned upon the pinnace 
and assailed us in its turn. 

This manoeuvre did not escape the Canadian. 

“Look out!” he cried. 

The coxswain said some words in his outlandish tongue, 
doubtless warning the men to keep on their guard. 

The dugong came within twenty feet of the boat, stopped, 
sniffed the air briskly with its large nostrils (not pierced at 
the extremity, but in the upper part of its muzzle). Then, 
taking a spring, he threw himself upon us. 

The pinnace could not avoid the shock, and half upset, 
shipped at least two tons of water, whicli had to be emptied ; 
but, thanks to the coxswain, we caught it sidev/ays, not full 
front, so we were not quite overturned. While Ned Land, 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 173 

clinging to the bows, belaboured the gigantic animal with 
blows from his harpoon, the creature’s teeth were buried 
in the gunwale, and it lifted the whole thing out of the 
water, as a lion does a roebuck. We were upset over one 
another, and I know not how the adventure would have 
ended, if the Canadian, still enraged with the beast, had 
not struck it to the heart. 

I heard its teeth grind on the iron plate, and the dugong 
disappeared, carrying the harpoon with him. But the barrel 
soon returned to the surface, and shortly after the body of 
the animal, turned on its back. The boat came up with it, 
took it in tow, and made straight for the Nautilus. 

It required tackle of enormous strength to hoist the du- 
gong on to the platform. It weighed 10,000 lb. 

The next day, 11th February, the larder of the Nautilus 
was enriched by some more delicate game. A flight of sea- 
swallows rested on the Nautilus. It was a species of the 
Sterna nilotica, peculiar to Egypt; its beak is black, head 
grey and pointed, the eye surrounded by white spots, the 
back, wings, and tail of a greyish colour, the belly and 
throat white, and claws red. They also took some dozen of 
Nile ducks, a wild bird of high flavour, its throat and upper 
part of the head white with black spots. 

About five o’clock in the evening we sighted to the north 
the Cape of Ras-Mohammed. This cape forms the extremity 
of Arabia Petraea, comprised between the Gulf of Suez and 
the Gulf of Acabah. 

The Nautilus penetrated into the Straits of Jubal, which 
leads to the Gulf of Suez. I distinctly saw a high mountain, 
towering between the two gulfs of Ras-Mohammed. It was 
Mount Horeb, that Sinai at the top of which Moses saw 
God face to face. 

At six o’clock the Nautilus, sometimes floating, sometimes 
immersed, passed some distance from Tor, situated at the 
end of the bay, the waters of which seemed tinted with red, 
an observation already made by Captain Nemo. Then night 
fell in the midst of a heavy silence, sometimes broken by 
the cries of the pelican and other night-birds, and the noise 
of the waves breaking upon the shore, chafing against the 


171 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

rocks, or the panting of some far-off steamer beating the 
waters of the Gulf with its noisy paddles. 

From; eight to nine o’clock the Nautilus remained some 
fathoms under the water. According to my calculation we 
must have been very near Suez. Through the panel of the 
saloon I saw the bottom of the rocks brilliantly lit up by 
our electric lamp. We seemed to be leaving the Straits be- 
hind us more and more. 

At a quarter-past nine, the vessel having returned to the 
surface, I mounted the platform. Most impatient to pass 
through Captain Nemo’s tunnel, I could not stay in one 
place, so came to breathe the fresh night air. 

Soon in the shadow I saw a pale light, half discoloured 
by the fog, shining about a mile from us. 

“A floating lighthouse!” said someone near me. 

I turned, and saw the Captain. 

“It is the floating light of Suez,” he continued. “It will 
not be long before we gain the entrance of the tunnel.” 

“The entrance cannot be easy.?” 

“No, sir; for that reason I am accustomed to go into 
the steersman’s cage and myself direct our course. And now, 
if you will go down, M. Aronnax, the Nautilus is going 
under the waves, and will not return to the surface until 
we have passed through the Arabian Tunnel.” 

Captain Nemo led me towards the central staircase ; half- 
way down he opened a door, traversed the upper deck, and 
landed in the pilot’s cage, which it may be remembered rose 
at the extremity of the platform. It was a cabin measuring 
six feet square, very much like that occupied by the pilot 
on the steamboats of the Mississippi or Hudson. In the 
midst worked a wheel, placed vertically, and caught to the 
tiller-rope, which ran to the back of the Nautilus. Four 
light-ports with lenticular glasses, let in a groove in the 
partition of the cabin, allowed the man at the wheel to 
see in all directions. 

This cabin w as dark ; but soon my eyes accustomed them- 
selves to the obscurity, and I perceived the pilot, a strong 
man, with his hands resting on the spokes of the wheel. 
Outside, the sea appeared vividly lit up by the lantern, 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 175 

which shed its rays from the back of the cabin to the other 
extremity of the platform. 

“Now,” said Captain Nemo, “let us try to make our 
passage.” 

Electric wires connected the pilot’s cage with the ma- 
chinery room, and from there the Captain could communi- 
cate simultaneously to his Nautilus the direction and the 
speed. He pressed a metal knob, and at once the speed of 
the screw diminished. 

I looked in silence at the high straight wall we were run- 
ning by at this moment, the immovable base of a massive 
sandy coast. We followed it thus for an hour only some few 
3^ards off. 

Captain Nemo did not take his eye from the knob, sus- 
pended by its two concentric circles in the cabin. At a 
simple gesture, the pilot modified the course of the Nautilus 
every instant. 

I had placed myself at the port-scuttle, and saw some 
magnificent substructures of coral, zoophytes, seaweed, and 
fucus, agitating their enormous claws, which stretched out 
from the fissures of the rock. 

At a quarter-past ten, the Captain himself took the helm. 
A large gallery, black and deep, opened before us. The 
Nautilus went boldly into it. A strange roaring was heard 
round its sides. It was the waters of the Red Sea, which 
the incline of the tunnel precipitated violently towards the 
Mediterranean. The Nautilus went with the torrent, rapid 
as an arrow, in spite of the efforts of the machinery, which, 
in order to offer more effective resistance, beat the waves 
with reversed screw. 

On the walls of the narrow passage I could see nothing 
but brilliant rays, straight lines, furrows of fire, traced by 
the great speed, under the brilliant electric light. My heart 
beat fast. 

At thirty-five minutes past ten. Captain Nemo quitted 
the helm, and, turning to me, said : 

“The Mediterranean !” 

In less than twenty minutes, the Nautilus, carried along 
by the torrent, had passed through the Isthmus of Suez. 


176 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 


CHAPTER VI 

THE GRECIAN ARCHIPELAGO 

The next day, the 12th of February, at the dawn of day, 
the Nautilus rose to the surface. I hastened on to the plat- 
form. Three miles to the south the dim outline of Pelusium 
was to be seen. A torrent had carried us from one sea to 
another. About seven o’clock Ned and Conseil joined me. 

“Well, Sir Naturalist,” said the Canadian, in a slightly 
jovial tone, “and the Mediterranean.^” 

“We are floating on its surface, friend Ned.” 

“What!” said Conseil, “this very night.” 

“Yes, this very night; in a few minutes we have passed 
this impassable isthmus.” 

do not believe it,” replied the Canadian. 

“Then you are wrong. Master Land,” I continued; “this 
low coast which rounds off to the south is the Egyptian 
coast. And you who have such good eyes, Ned, you can see 
the jetty of Port Said stretching into the sea.” 

The Canadian looked attentively. 

“Certainly you are right, sir, and your Captain is a first- 
rate man. We are in the Mediterranean. Good! Now, if 
you please, let us talk of our own little affair, but so that 
no one hears us.” 

I saw what the Canadian wanted, and, in any case, I 
thought it better to let him talk, as he wished it; so we 
all three went and sat down near the lantern, where we 
were less exposed to the spray of the blades. 

“Now, Ned, we listen; what have you to tell us.?” 

“What I have to tell you is very simple. We are in Eu- 
rope; and before Captain Nemo’s caprices drag us once 
more to the bottom of the Polar Seas, or lead us into 
Oceania, I ask to leave the NautilusP 

I wished in no way to shackle the liberty of my com- 
panions, but I certainly felt no desire to leave Captain 
Nemo. 

Thanks to him, and thanks to his apparatus, I was each 
day nearer the completion of my submarine studies; and 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 177 

I was rewriting my book of submarine depths in its very 
element. Should I ever again have such an opportunity of 
observing the wonders of the ocean.? No, certainly not! And 
I could not bring myself to the idea of abandoning the 
Nautilus before the cycle of investigation was accomplished. 

‘‘Friend Ned, answer me frankly, are you tired of being 
on board.? Are you sorry that destiny has thrown us into 
Captain Nemo’s hands.?” 

The Canadian remained some moments without answer- 
ing. Then, crossing his arms, he said : 

“Frankly, I do not regret this journey under the seas. 
I shall be glad to have made it; but, now that it is made, 
let us have done with it. That is my idea.” 

“It will come to an end, Ned.” 

“Where and when.?” 

“Where I do not know — when I cannot say; or, rather, 
I suppose it will end when these seas have nothing more to 
teach us.” 

“Then what do you hope for.?” demanded the Canadian. 

“That circumstances may occur as well six months hence 
as now by which we may and ought to profit.” 

“Oh!” said Ned Land, “and where shall we be in six 
months, if you please. Sir Naturalist.?” 

“Perhaps in China; you know the Nautilus is a rapid 
traveller. It goes through water as swallows through the air, 
or as an express on the land. It does not fear frequented 
seas ; who can say that it may not beat the coasts of France, 
England, or America, on which flight may be attempted 
as advantageously as here.” 

“M. Arron^.x,” replied the Canadian, “your arguments 
are rotten at the foundation. You speak in the future, ‘We 
shall be there! we shall be here!’ I speak in the present, 
‘We are here, and we must profit by it.’ ” 

Ned Land’s logic pressed me hard, and I felt myself 
beaten on that ground. I knew not what argument would 
now tell in my favour. 

“Sir,” continued Ned, “let us suppose an impossibility: 
if Captain Nemo should this day offer you your liberty, 
would you accept it.?” 


178 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

‘‘I do not know,” I answered. 

‘‘And if,” he added, “the offer made you this day was 
never to be renewed, would you accept it?” 

“Friend Ned, this is my answer. Your reasoning is 
against me. We must not rely on Captain Nemo’s good-will. 
Common prudence forbids him to set us at liberty. On the 
other side, prudence bids us profit by the first opportunity 
to leave the Nautilus.^^ 

“Well, M. Aronnax, that is wisely said.” 

“Only one observation — just one. The occasion must be 
serious, and our first attempt must succeed; if it fails, we 
shall never find another, and Captain Nemo will never for- 
give us.” 

“All that is true,” replied the Canadian. “But your ob- 
servation applies equally to all attempts at flight, whether 
in two years’ time, or in two days’. But the question is still 
this : If a favourable opportunity presents itself, it must be 
seized.” 

“Agreed ! And now, Ned, will you tell me what you mean 
by a favourable opportunity?” 

“It will be that which, on a dark night, will bring the 
Nautilus a short distance from some European coast.” 

“And you will try and save yourself by swimming?” 

“Yes, if we were near enough to the bank, and if the 
vessel was floating at the time. Not if the bank was far away, 
and the boat was under the water.” 

“And in that case?” 

“In that case, I should seek to make myself master of 
the pinnace. I know how it is worked. We must get inside, 
and the bolts once drawn, we shall come to the surface of the 
water, without even the pilot, who is in the bows, perceiving 
our flight.” 

“Well, Ned, watch for the opportunity; but do not for- 
get that a hitch will ruin us.” 

“I will not forget, sir.” 

“And now, Ned, would you like to know what I think of 
your project?” 

“Certainly, M. Aronnax.” 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 179 

“Well, I think — I do not say I hope — I think that this 
favourable opportunity will never present itself.” 

“Why not.?” 

“Because Captain Nemo cannot hide from himself that 
we have not given up all hope of regaining our liberty, and 
he will be on his guard, above all, in the seas and in the 
sight of European coasts.” 

“We shall see,” replied Ned Land, shaking his head 
determinedly. 

“And now, Ned Land,” I added, “let us stop here. Not 
another word on the subject. The day that you are ready, 
come and let us know, and we will follow you. I rely entirely 
upon you.” 

Thus ended a conversation which, at no very distant time, 
led to such grave results. I must say here that facts seemed 
to confirm my foresight, to the Canadian’s great despair. 
Did Captain Nemo distrust us in these frequented seas? or 
did he only wish to hide himself from the numerous vessels, 
of all nations, which ploughed the Mediterranean? I could 
not tell; but we were oftener between waters and far from 
the coast. Or, if the Nautilus did emerge, nothing was to be 
seen but the pilot’s cage; and sometimes it went to great 
depths, for, between the Grecian Archipelago and Asia 
Minor we could not touch the bottom by more than a thou- 
sand fathoms. 

Thus I only knew we were near the Island of Carpathos, 
one of the Sporades, by Captain Nemo reciting these lines 
from Virgil: 

“Est Carpathio Neptuni gurgite vates, 

Caeruleus Proteus,” 

as he pointed to a spot on the planisphere. 

It was indeed the ancient abode of Proteus, the old 
shepherd of Neptune’s flocks, now the Island of Scarpanto, 
situated between Rhodes and Crete. I saw nothing but the 
granite base through the glass panels of the saloon. 

The next day, the 14th of February, I resolved to employ 
some hours in studying the fishes of the Archipelago; but 
for some reason or other the panels remained hermetically 
sealed. Upon taking the course of the Nautilus, I found that 


180 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

we were going towards Candia, the ancient Isle of Crete. 
At the time I embarked on the Abraham Lincoln, the whole 
of this island had risen in insurrection against the despotism 
of the Turks. But how the insurgents had fared since that 
time I was absolutely ignorant, and it was not Captain 
Nemo, deprived of all land communications, who could 
tell me. 

I made no allusion to this event when that night I found 
myself alone with him in the saloon. Besides, he seemed to 
be taciturn and preoccupied. Then, contrary to his custom, 
he ordered both panels to be opened, and, going from one 
to the other, observed the mass of waters attentively. To 
what end I could not guess ; so, on my side, I employed my 
time in studying the fish passing before my eyes. 

In the midst of the waters a man appeared, a diver, carry- 
ing at his belt a leathern purse. It was not a body abandoned 
to the waves ; it was a living man, swimming with a strong 
hand, disappearing occasionally to take breath at the 
surface. 

I turned towards Captain Nemo, and in an agitated voice 
exclaimed : 

‘‘A man shipwrecked! He must be saved at any price!” 

The Captain did not answer me, but came and leaned 
against the panel. 

The man had approached, and, with his face flattened 
against the glass, was looking at us. 

To my great amazement. Captain Nemo signed to him. 
The diver answered with his hand, mounted immediately to 
the surface of the water, and did not appear again. 

“Do not be uncomfortable,” said Captain Nemo. “It is 
Nicholas of Cape Matapan, surnamed Pesca. He is well 
known in all the Cyclades. A bold diver ! water is his element, 
and he lives more in it than on land, going continually from 
one island to another, even as far as Crete.” 

“You know him. Captain.^” 

“Why not, M. Aronnax.^” 

Saying which. Captain Nemo went towards a piece of 
furniture standing near the left panel of the saloon. Near 
this piece of furniture, I saw a chest bound with iron, on 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 181 

the cover of which was a copper plate, bearing the cypher 
of the Nautilus with its device. 

At that moment, the Captain, without noticing my pres- 
ence, opened the piece of furniture, a sort of strong box, 
which held a great many ingots. 

They were ingots of gold. From whence came this pre- 
cious metal, which represented an enormous sum.? Where did 
the Captain gather this gold from.? and what was he going 
to do with it.? 

I did not say one word. I looked. Captain Nemo took the 
ingots one by one, and arranged them methodically in the 
chest, which he filled entirely. I estimated the contents at 
more than 4,000 lb. weight of gold, that is to say,, nearly 
£ 200 , 000 . 

The chest was securely fastened, and the Captain wrote 
an address on the lid, in characters which must have be- 
longed to Modern Greece. 

This done. Captain Nemo pressed a knob, the wire of 
which communicated with the quarters of the crew. Four 
men appeared, and, not without some trouble, pushed the 
chest out of the saloon. Then I heard them hoisting it up 
the iron staircase by means of pulleys. 

At that moment. Captain Nemo turned to me. 

‘‘And you were saying, sir.?” said he. 

“I was saying nothing. Captain.” 

“Then, sir, if you will allow me, I will wish you good 
night.” 

Whereupon he turned and left the saloon. 

I returned to my room much troubled, as one may believe. 
I vainly tried to sleep — I sought the connecting link be- 
tween the apparition of the diver and the chest filled with 
gold. Soon, I felt by certain movements of pitching and toss- 
ing that the Nautilus was leaving the depths and returning 
to the surface. 

Then I heard steps upon the platform; and I knew they 
were unfastening the pinnace and launching it upon the 
waves. For one instant it struck the side of the Nautilus^ 
then all noise ceased. 

Two hours after, the same noise, the same going and com- 


182 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

ing was renewed; the boat was hoisted on board, replaced 
in its socket, and the Nautilus again plunged under the 
waves. 

So these millions had been transported to their address. 
To what point of the continent Who was Captain Nemo’s 
correspondent ? 

The next day I related to Conseil and the Canadian the 
events of the night, which had excited my curiosity to the 
highest degree. My companions were not less surprised than 
myself. 

“But where does he take his millions to.?” asked Ned 
Land. 

To that there was no possible answer. I returned to the 
saloon after having breakfast and set to work. Till five 
o’clock in the evening I employed myself in arranging my 
notes. At that moment — (ought I to attribute it to some 
peculiar idiosyncrasy) — I felt so great a heat that I was 
obliged to take off my coat. It was strange, for we were 
under low latitudes ; and even then the Nautilus, submerged 
as it was, ought to experience no change of temperature. I 
looked at the manometer; it showed a depth of sixty feet, 
to which atmospheric heat could never attain. 

I continued my work, but the temperature rose to such a 
pitch as to be intolerable. 

“Could there be fire on board.?” I asked myself. 

I was leaving the saloon, when Captain Nemo entered; 
he approached the thermometer, consulted it, and, turning 
to me, said: 

“Forty-two degrees.” 

“I have noticed it. Captain,” I replied; “and if it gets 
much hotter we cannot bear it.” 

“Oh, sir, it will not get better if we do not wish it.” 

“You can reduce it as you please, then.?” 

“No; but I can go farther from the stove which produces 
it.” 

“It is outward, then !” 

“Certainly ; we are floating in a current of boiling water.’^ 

“Is it possible!” I exclaimed. 

“Look.” 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 183 

The panels opened, and I saw the sea entirely white all 
round. A sulphurous smoke was curling amid the waves, 
which boiled like water in a copper. I placed my hand on 
one of the panes of glass, but the heat was so great that I 
quickly took it off again. 

“Where are we?” I asked. 

“Near the Island of Santorin, sir,” replied the Captain. 
“I wished to give you a sight of the curious spectacle of a 
submarine eruption.” 

“I thought,” said I, “that the formation of these new 
islands was ended.” 

“Nothing is ever ended in the volcanic parts of the sea,” 
replied Captain Nemo ; “and the globe is always being 
worked by subterranean fires. Already, in the nineteenth 
year of our era, according to Cassiodorus and Pliny, a new 
island, Theia (the divine), appeared in the very place where 
these islets have recently been formed. Then they sank 
under the waves, to rise again in the year 69, when they 
again subsided. Since that time to our days the Plutonian 
work has been suspended. But on the 3rd of February, 1866, 
a new island, which they named George Island, emerged 
from the midst of the sulphurous vapour near Nea Kamenni, 
and settled again the 6th of the same month. Seven days 
after, the 13th of February, the Island of Aphroessa ap- 
peared, leaving between Nea Kamenni and itself a canal 
ten yards broad. I was in these seas when the phenomenon 
occurred, and I was able therefore to observe all the different 
phases. The Island of Aphroessa, of round form, measured 
300 feet in diameter, and 30 feet in height. It was com- 
posed of black and vitreous lava, mixed with fragments of 
felspar. And lastly, oh the 10th of March, a smaller island, 
called Reka, showed itself near Nea Kamenni, and since then 
these three have joined together, forming but one and the 
same island.” 

“And the canal in which we are at this moment?” I asked. 

“Here it is,” replied Captain Nemo, showing me a map 
of the Archipelago. “You see, I have marked the new 
islands.” 

I returned to the glass. The Nautilus was no longer mov- 


184 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

ing, the heat was becoming unbearable. The sea, which till 
now had been white, was red, owing to the presence of salts 
of iron. In spite of the ship’s being hermetically sealed, an 
insupportable smell of sulphur filled the saloon, and the 
brilliancy of the electricity was entirely extinguished by 
bright scarlet flames. I was in a bath, I was choking, I was 
broiled. 

‘‘We can remain no longer in this boiling water,” said I 
to the Captain. 

“It would not be prudent,” replied the impassive Captain 
Nemo. 

An order was given; the Nautilus tacked about and left 
the furnace it could not brave with impunity. A quarter of 
an hour after we were breathing fresh air on the surface. 
The thought then struck me that, if Ned Land had chosen 
this part of the sea for our flight, we should never have 
come alive out of this sea of fire. 

The next day, the 16th of February, we left the basin 
which, between Rhodes and Alexandria, is reckoned about 
1,500 fathoms in depth, and the Nautilus, passing some 
distance from Cerigo, quitted the Grecian Archipelago after 
having doubled Cape Matapan. 


CHAPTER VII 

THE MEDITERRANEAN IN FORTY-EIGHT HOURS 

T HE Mediterranean, the blue sea par excellence^ “the great 
sea” of the Flebrews, “the sea” of the Greeks, the ‘‘mare 
nostrum^^ of the Romans, bordered by orange-trees, aloes, 
cacti, and sea-pines; embalmed with the perfume of the 
myrtle, surrounded by rude mountains, saturated with pure 
and transparent air, but incessantly worked by under- 
ground fires; a perfect battlefield in which Neptune and 
Pluto still dispute the empire of the world! 

It is upon these banks, and on these waters, says Michelet, 
that man is renewed in one of the most powerful climates 
of the globe. But, beautiful as it was, I could only take a 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 185 

rapid glance at the basin whose superficial area is two mil- 
lion of square yards. Even Captain Nemo’s knowledge was 
lost to me, for this puzzling person did not appear once 
during our passage at full speed. I estimated the course 
which the Nautilus took under the waves of the sea at about 
six hundred leagues, and it was accomplished in forty-eight 
hours. Starting on the morning of the 16th of February 
from the shores of Greece, we had crossed the Straits of 
Gibraltar by sunrise on the 18th. 

It was plain to me that this Mediterranean, enclosed in 
the midst of those countries which he wished to avoid, was 
distasteful to Captain Nemo. Those waves and those breezes 
brought back too many remembrances, if not too many 
regrets. Here he had no longer that independence and that 
liberty of gait which he had when in the open seas, and his 
Nautilus felt itself cramped between the close shores of 
Africa and Europe. 

Our speed was now twenty-five miles an hour. It may 
be well understood that Ned Land, to his great disgust, 
was obliged to renounce his intended flight. He could not 
launch the pinnace, going at the rate of twelve or thirteen 
yards every second. To quit the Nautilus under such con- 
ditions would be as bad as jumping from a train going at 
full speed — an imprudent thing, to say the least of it. Be- 
sides, our vessel only mounted to the surface of the waves 
at night to renew its stock of air; it was steered entirely 
by the compass and the log. 

I saw no more of the interior of this Mediterranean than 
a traveller by express train perceives of the landscape which 
flies before his eyes ; that is to say, the distant horizon, 
and not the nearer objects which pass like a flash of 
lightning. 

We were then passing between Sicily and the coast of 
Tunis. In the narrow space between Cape Bon and the 
Straits of Messina the bottom of the sea rose almost sud- 
denly. There was a perfect bank, on which there was not 
more than nine fathoms of water, whilst on either side the 
depth was ninety fathoms. 


186 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

The Nautilus had to manoeuvre very carefully so as not 
to strike against this submarine barrier. 

I showed Conseil, on the map of the Mediterranean, the 
spot occupied by this reef. 

“But if you please, sir,” observed Conseil, “it is like a 
real isthmus joining Europe to Africa.” 

“Yes, my boy, it forms a perfect bar to the Straits of 
Lybia, and the soundings of Smith have proved that in 
former times the continents between Cape Boco and Cape 
Purina were joined.” 

“I can well believe it,” said Conseil. 

“I will add,” I continued, “that a similar barrier exists 
between Gibraltar and Ceuta, which in geological times 
formed the entire Mediterranean.” 

“What if some volcanic burst should one day raise these 
two barriers above the waves.?” 

“It is not probable, Conseil.” 

“Well, but allow me to finish, please, sir; if tliis phenom- 
enon should take place, it will be troublesome for M. 
Lesseps, who has taken so much pains to pierce the isthmus.” 

“I agree with you ; but I repeat, Conseil, this phenom- 
enon will never happen. The violence of subterranean 
force is ever diminishing. Volcanoes, so plentiful in the first 
days of the world, are being extinguished by degrees ; the 
internal heat is weakened, the temperature of the lower 
strata of the globe is lowered by a perceptible quantity 
every century to the detriment of our globe, for its heat is 
its life.” 

“But the sun?” 

“The sun is not sufficient, Conseil. Can it give heat to a 
dead body?” 

“Not that I know of.” 

“Well, my friend, this earth will one day be that cold 
corpse; it will become uninhabitable and uninhabited like 
the moon, which has long since lost all its vital heat.” 

“In how many centuries?” 

“In some hundreds of thousands of years, my boy.” 

“Then,” said Conseil, “we shall have time to finish our 
journey — that is, if Ned Land does not interfere with it.” 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 187 

And Conseil, reassured, returned to the study of the bank, 
which the NautUiis was skirting at a moderate speed. 

During the night of the 16th and 17th February we had 
entered the second Mediterranean basin, the greatest depth 
of which was 1,450 fathoms. The Nautilus, by the action of 
its crew, slid down the inclined planes and buried itself in 
the lowest depths of the sea. 

On the 18th of February, about three o’clock in the 
morning, we were at the entrance of the Straits of Gibraltar. 
There once existed two currents: an upper one, long since 
recognised, which conveys the waters of the ocean into the 
basin of the Mediterranean; and a lower counter-current, 
which reasoning has now shown to exist. Indeed, the volume 
of water in the Mediterranean, incessantly added to by the 
waves of the Atlantic and by rivers falling into it, would 
each year raise the level of this sea, for its evaporation is 
not sufficient to restore the equilibrium. As it is not so, we 
must necessarily admit the existence of an under-current, 
which empties into the basin of the Atlantic through the 
Straits of Gibraltar the surplus waters of the Medi- 
terranean. A fact indeed ; and it was this counter-current by 
which the Nautilus profited. It advanced rapidly by the 
narrow pass. For one instant I caught a glimpse of the beau- 
tiful ruins of the temple of Hercules, buried in the ground, 
according to Pliny, and with the low island which supports 
it ; and a few minutes later we were floating on the Atlantic. 


CHAPTER VIII 

VIGO BAY 

T HE Atlantic ! a vast sheet of water whose superficial area 
covers twenty-five millions of square miles, the length of 
which is nine thousand miles, with a mean breadth of two 
thousand seven hundred — an ocean whose parallel winding 
shores embrace an immense circumference, watered by the 
largest rivers of the world, the St. Lawrence, the Mississippi, 
the Amazon, the Plata, the Orinoco, the Niger, the Senegal, 


188 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

the Elbe, the Loire, and the Rhine, which carry water from 
the most civilised, as well as from the most savage, countries ! 
Magnificent field of water, incessantly ploughed by vessels 
of every nation, sheltered by the flags of every nation, and 
which terminates in those two terrible points so dreaded by 
mariners. Cape Horn and the Cape of Tempests. 

The Nautilus was piercing the water with its sharp spur, 
after having accomplished nearly ten thousand leagues in 
three months and a half, a distance greater than the great 
circle of the earth. Where were we going now, and what was 
reserved for the future.^ The Nautilus, leaving the Straits 
of Gibraltar, had gone far out. It returned to the surface of 
the waves, and our daily walks on the platform were re- 
stored to us. 

I mounted at once, accompanied by Ned Land and Con- 
seil. At a distance of about twelve miles. Cape St. Vincent 
was dimly to be seen, forming the south-western point of the 
Spanish peninsula. A strong southerly gale was blowing. 
The sea was swollen and billowy ; it made the Nautilus rock 
violently. It was almost impossible to keep one’s foot on the 
platform, which the heavy rolls of the sea beat over every 
instant. So we descended after inhaling some mouthfuls of 
fresh air. 

I returned to my room, Conseil to his cabin ; but the Cana- 
dian, with a preoccupied air, followed me. Our rapid pass- 
age across the Mediterranean had not allowed him to put 
his project into execution, and he could not help showing 
his disappointment. When the door of my room was shut, 
he sat down and looked at me silently. 

‘‘Friend Ned,” said I, “I understand you; but you can- 
not reproach yourself. To have attempted to leave the 
Nautilus under the circumstances would have been folly.” 

Ned Land did not answer; his compressed lips and frown- 
ing brow showed with him the violent possession this fixed 
idea had taken of his mind. 

“Let us see,” I continued ; “w^e need not despair yet. We 
are going up the coast of Portugal again ; France and Eng- 
land are not far off, where we can easily find refuge. Now 
if the Nautilus, on leaving the Straits of Gibraltar, had 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 189 

gone to the south, if it had carried us towards regions where 
there were no continents, I should share your uneasiness. 
But we know now that Captain Nemo does not fly from 
civilised seas, and in some days I think you can act with 
security.” 

Ned Land still looked at me fixedly; at length his fixed 
lips parted, and he said, ‘‘It is for to-night.” 

I drew myself up suddenly. I was, I admit, little prepared 
for this communication. I wanted to answer the Canadian, 
but words would not come. 

“We agreed to wait for an opportunity,” continued Ned 
Land, “and the opportunity has arrived. This night we 
shall be but a few miles from the Spanish coast. It is cloudy. 
The wind blows freely. I have your word, M. Aronnax, and 
I rely upon you.” 

As I was silent, the Canadian approached me. 

“To-night, at nine o’clock,” said he. “I have warned 
Conseil. At that moment Captain Nemo will be shut up in 
his room, probably in bed. Neither the engineers nor the 
ship’s crew can see us. Conseil and I will gain the central 
staircase, and you, M. Aronnax, will remain in the library, 
two steps from us, waiting my signal. The oars, the mast, 
and the sail are in the canoe. I have even succeeded in getting 
some provisions. I have procured an English wrench, to 
unfasten the bolts which attach it to the shell of the Nautilus, 
So all is ready, till to-night.” 

“The sea is bad.” 

“That I allow,” replied the Canadian; “but we must 
risk that. Liberty is worth paying for; besides, the boat is 
strong, and a few miles with a fair wind to carry us is no 
great thing. Who knows but by to-morrow we may be a 
hundred leagues away.? Let circumstances only favour us, 
and by ten or eleven o’clock we shall have landed on some 
spot of terra firma, alive or dead. But adieu now till 
to-night.” 

With these words the Canadian withdrew, leaving me 
almost dumb. I had imagined that, the chance gone, I should 
have time to reflect and discuss the matter. My obstinate 
companion had given me no time ; and, after all, what could 


190 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

I have said to him? Ned Land was perfectly right. There 
was almost the opportunity to profit by. Could I retract my 
word, and take upon myself the responsibility of compromis- 
ing the future of my companions? To-morrow Captain 
Nemo might take us far from all land. 

At that moment a rather loud hissing noise told me that 
the reservoirs were filling, and that the Nawtilm was sinking 
under the waves of the Atlantic. 

A sad day I passed, between the desire of regaining my 
liberty of action and of abandoning the wonderful Nautilus^ 
and leaving my submarine studies incomplete. 

What dreadful hours I passed thus! Sometimes seeing 
myself and companions safely landed, sometimes wishing, 
in spite of my reason, that some unforeseen circumstances 
would prevent the realisation of Ned Land’s project. 

Twice I went to the saloon. I wished to consult the com- 
pass. I wished to see if the direction the Nautilus was tak- 
ing was bringing us nearer or taking us farther from the 
coast. But no ; the Nautilus kept in Portuguese waters. 

I must therefore take my part and prepare for flight. 
My luggage was not heavy ; my notes, nothing more. 

As to Captain Nemo, I asked myself what he would think 
of our escape ; what trouble, what wrong it might cause him, 
and what he might do in case of its discovery or failure. 
Certainly I had no cause to complain of him; on the con- 
trary, never was hospitality freer than his. In leaving him 
I could not be taxed with ingratitude. No oath bound us to 
him. It was on the strength of circumstances he relied, and 
not upon our word, to fix us for ever. 

I had not seen the Captain since our visit to the Island 
of Santorin. Would chance bring me to his presence before 
our departure? I wished it, and I feared it at the same 
time. I listened if I could hear him walking the room contigu- 
ous to mine. No sound reached my ear. I felt an unbearable 
uneasiness. This day of waiting seemed eternal. Hours 
struck too slowly to keep pace with my impatience. 

My dinner was served in my room as usual. I ate but 
little ; I was too preoccupied. I left the table at seven o’clock. 
A hundred and twenty minutes (I counted them) still sepa- 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 191 

rated me from the moment in which I was to join Ned Land. 
My agitation redoubled. My pulse beat violently. I could 
not remain quiet. I went and came, hoping to calm my 
troubled spirit by constant movement. The idea of failure 
in our bold enterprise was the least painful of my anxieties ; 
but the thought of seeing our project discovered before leav- 
ing the Nautilus^ of being brought before Captain Nemo, 
irritated, or (what was worse) saddened, at my desertion, 
made my heart beat. 

I wanted to see the saloon for the last time. I descended 
the stairs and arrived in the museum, where I had passed so 
many useful and agreeable hours. I looked at all its riches, 
all its treasures, like a man on the eve of an eternal exile, 
who was leaving never to return. 

These wonders of Nature, these masterpieces of art, 
amongst which for so many days my life had been con- 
centrated, I was going to abandon them for ever! I should 
like to have taken a last look through the windows of the 
saloon into the waters of the Atlantic: but the panels were 
hermetically closed, and a cloak of steel separated me from 
that ocean which I had not yet explored. 

In passing through the saloon, I came near the door let 
into the angle which opened into the Captain’s room. To 
my great surprise, this door was ajar. I drew back invol- 
untarily. If Captain Nemo should be in his room, he could 
see me. But, hearing no sound, I drew nearer. The room 
was deserted. I pushed open the door and took some steps 
forward. Still the same monklike severity of aspect. 

Suddenly the clock struck eight. The first beat of the 
hammer on the bell awoke me from my dreams. I trembled 
as if an invisible eye had plunged into my most secret 
thoughts, and I hurried from the room. 

There my eye fell upon the compass. Our course was still 
north. The log indicated moderate speed, the manometer a 
depth of about sixty feet. 

I returned to my room, clothed myself warmly — sea- 
boots, an otterskin cap, a great coat of byssus, lined with 
sealskin; I was ready, I was waiting. The vibration of the 
screw alone broke the deep silence which reigned on board. 


192 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

I listened attentively. Would no loud voice suddenly inform 
me that Ned Land had been surprised in his projected flight. 
A mortal dread hung over me, and I vainly tried to regain 
my accustomed coolness. 

At a few minutes to nine, I put my ear to the Captain’s 
door. No noise. I left my room and returned to the saloon, 
which was half in obscurity, but deserted. 

I opened the door communicating with the. library. The 
same insufficient light, the same solitude. I placed myself 
near the door leading to the central staircase, and there 
waited for Ned Land’s signal. 

At that moment the trembling of the screw sensibly 
diminished, then it stopped entirely. The silence was now 
only disturbed by the beatings of my own heart. Suddenly 
a slight shock was felt; and I knew that the Nawtilus had 
stopped at the bottom of the ocean. My uneasiness increased. 
The Canadian’s signal did not come. I felt inclined to join 
Ned Land and beg of him to put off his attempt. I felt that 
we were not sailing under our usual conditions. 

At this moment the door of the large saloon opened, and 
Captain Nemo appeared. He saw me, and without further 
preamble began in an amiable tone of voice : 

‘Ah, sir! I have been looking for you. Do you know the 
history of Spain.?” 

Now, one might know the history of one’s own country 
by heart; but in the condition I was at the time, with 
troubled mind and head quite lost, I could not have said 
a word of it. 

“Well,” continued Captain Nemo, “you heard my ques- 
tion! Do you know the history of Spain.?” 

“Very slightly,” I answered. 

“Well, here are learned men having to learn,” said the 
Captain. “Come, sit down, and I will tell you a curious 
episode in this history. Sir, listen well,” said he; “this 
history will interest you on one side, for it will answer a 
question which doubtless you have not been able to solve.” 

“I listen. Captain,” said I, not knowing what my inter- 
locutor was driving at, and asking myself if this incident was 
bearing on our projected flight. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 19S 

‘‘Sir, if you have no objection, we will go back to 1702. 
You cannot be ignorant that your king, Louis XIV, think- 
ing that the gesture of a potentate was sufficient to bring the 
Pyrenees under his yoke, had imposed the Duke of Anjou, 
his grandson, on the Spaniards. This prince reigned more 
or less badly under the name of Philip V, and had a strong 
party against him abroad. Indeed, the preceding year, the 
royal houses of Holland, Austria, and England had con- 
cluded a treaty of alliance at the Hague, mth the intention 
of plucking the crown of Spain from the head of Philip V, 
and placing it on that of an archduke to whom they pre- 
maturely gave the title of Charles HI. 

“Spain must resist this coalition; but she was almost 
entirely unprovided with either soldiers or sailors. How- 
ever, money would not fail them, provided that their 
galleons, laden with gold and silver from America, once 
entered their ports. And about the end of 1702 they ex- 
pected a rich convoy which France was escorting with a fleet 
of twenty-three vessels, commanded by Admiral Ch 9 ,teau- 
Renaud, for the ships of the coalition were already beating 
the Atlantic. This convoy was to go to Cadiz, but the Ad- 
miral, hearing that an English fleet was cruising in those 
waters, resolved to make for a French port. 

“The Spanish commanders of the convoy objected to this 
decision. They wanted to be taken to a Spanish port, and, 
if not to Cadiz, into Vigo Bay, situated on the northwest 
coast of Spain, and which was not blocked. 

“Admiral Chateau-Renaud had the rashness to obey this 
injunction, and the galleons entered Vigo Bay. 

“Unfortunately, it formed an open road which could not 
be defended in any way. They must therefore hasten to 
unload the galleons before the arrival of the combined fleet; 
and time would not have failed them had not a miserable 
question of rivalry suddenly arisen. 

“You are following the chain of events asked Captain 
Nemo. 

“Perfectly,” said I, not knowing the end proposed by 
this historical lesson. 

“I will continue. This is what passed. The merchants of 


194j twenty thousand leagues under the sea 

Cadiz had a privilege by which they had the right of re- 
ceiving all merchandise coming from the West Indies. Now, 
to disembark these ingots at the port of Vigo was depriving 
them of their rights. They complained at Madrid, and 
obtained the consent of the weak-minded Philip that the 
convoy, without discharging its cargo, should remain 
sequestered in the roads of Vigo until the enemy had dis- 
appeared. 

“But whilst coming to this decision, on the 22nd of Octo- 
ber, 1702, the English vessels arrived in Vigo Bay, when 
Admiral Chateau-Renaud, in spite of inferior forces, fought 
bravely. But, seeing that the treasure must fall into the 
enemy’s hands, he burnt and scuttled every galleon, which 
went to the bottom with their immense riches.” 

Captain Nemo stopped. I admit I could not see yet why 
this history should interest me. 

“Well?” I asked. 

“Well, M. Aronnax,” replied Captain Nemo, “we are in 
that Vigo Bay; and it rests with yourself whether you will 
penetrate its mysteries.” 

The Captain rose, telling me to follow him. I had had 
time to recover. I obeyed. The saloon was dark, but through 
the transparent glass the waves were sparkling. I looked. 

For half a mile around the Nautilus ^ the waters seemed 
bathed in electric light. The sandy bottom was clean and 
bright. Some of the ship’s crew in their diving-dresses were 
clearing away half -rotten barrels and empty cases from, the 
midst of the blackened wrecks. From these cases and from 
these barrels escaped ingots of gold and silver, cascades of 
piastres and jewels. The sand was heaped up with them. 
Laden wdth their precious booty, the men returned to the 
Nautilus, disposed of their burden, and went back to this 
inexhaustible fishery of gold and silver. 

I understood now. This was the scene of the battle of the 
22nd of October, 1702. Here on this very spot the galleons 
laden for the Spanish Government had sunk. Here Captain 
Nemo came, according to his wants, to pack up those millions 
with which he burdened the Nautilus. It was for him and 
him alone America had given up her precious metals. He was 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 195 

heir direct, without anyone to share, in those treasures tom 
from the Incas and from the conquered of Ferdinand Cortez. 

“Did you know, sir,” he asked, smiling, “that the sea 
contained such riches?” 

“I knew,” I answered, “that they value money held in 
suspension in these waters at two millions.” 

“Doubtless ; but to extract this money the expense would 
be greater than the profit. Here, on the contrary, I have 
but to pick up what man has lost — and not only in Vigo 
Bay, but in a thousand other ports where shipwrecks have 
happened, and which are marked on my submarine map. 
Can you understand now the source of the millions I am 
worth?” 

“I understand. Captain. But allow me to tell you that in 
exploring Vigo Bay you have only been beforehand with a 
rival society.” 

“And which?” 

“A society which has received from the Spanish Govern- 
ment the privilege of seeking those buried galleons. The 
shareholders are led on by the allurement of an enormous 
bounty, for they value these rich shipwrecks at five hundred 
millions.” 

“Five hundred millions they were,” answered Captain 
Nemo, “but they are so no longer.” 

“Just so,” said I; “and a warning to those shareholders 
would be an act of charity. But who knows if it would be 
well received? What gamblers usually regret above all is 
less the loss of their money than of their foolish hopes. After 
all, I pity them less than the thousands of unfortunates to 
whom so much riches well-distributed would have been 
profitable, whilst for them they will be for ever barren.” 

I had no sooner expressed this regret than I felt that it 
must have wounded Captain Nemo. 

“Barren!” he exclaimed, with animation. “Do you think 
then, sir, that these riches are lost because I gather them? 
Is it for myself alone, according to your idea, that I take 
the trouble to collect these treasures? Who told you that I 
did not make a good use of it? Do you think I am ignorant 
that there are suffering beings and oppressed races on this 


196 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

earth, miserable creatures to console, victims to avenge? 
Do you not understand?” 

Captain Nemo stopped at these last words, regretting 
perhaps that he had spoken so much. But I had guessed 
that, whatever the motive which had forced him to seek in- 
dependence under the sea, it had left him still a man, that 
his heart still beat for the sufferings of humanity, and that 
his immense charity was for oppressed races as well as 
individuals. And I then understood for whom those millions 
were destined which were forwarded by Captain Nemo when 
the Nautilus was cruising in the waters of Crete. 


CHAPTER IX 

A VANISHED CONTINENT 

The next morning, the 19 th of February, I saw the Cana- 
dian enter my room. I expected this visit. He looked very 
disappointed. 

‘‘Well, sir?” said he. 

“Well, Ned, fortune was against us yesterday.” 

“Yes; that Captain must needs stop exactly at the hour 
we intended leaving his vessel.” 

“Yes, Ned, he had business at his bankers.” 

“His bankers!” 

“Or rather his banking-house ; by that I mean the ocean, 
where his riches are safer than in the chests of the State.” 

I then related to the Canadian the incidents of the pre- 
ceding night, hoping to bring him back to the idea of not 
abandoning the Captain ; but my recital had no other result 
than an energetically expressed regret from Ned that he 
had not been able to take a walk on the battlefield of Vigo 
on his own account. 

‘‘However,” said he, “all is not ended. It is only a blow 
of the harpoon lost. Another time we must succeed; and 
to-night, if necessary ” 

“In what direction is the Nautilus going?” I asked. 

“I do not know,” replied Ned. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 197 

“Well, at noon we shall see the point.” 

The Canadian returned to Conseil. As soon as I was 
dressed, I went into the saloon. The compass was not reas- 
suring. The course of the Nautilus was S.S.W. We were 
turning our backs on Europe. 

I waited with some impatience till the ship’s place was 
pricked on the chart. At about half-past eleven the reser- 
voirs were emptied, and our vessel rose to the surface of the 
ocean. I rushed towards the platform. Ned Land had pre- 
ceded me. No more land in sight. Nothing but an immense 
sea. Some sails on the horizon, doubtless those going to San 
Roque in search of favourable winds for doubling the Cape 
of Good Hope. The weather was cloudy. A gale of wind was 
preparing. Ned raved, and tried to pierce the cloudy hori- 
zon. He still hoped that behind all that fog stretched the 
land he so longed for. 

At noon the sun showed itself for an instant. The second 
profited by this brightness to take its height. Then, the sea 
becoming more billowy, we descended, and the panel closed. 

An hour after, upon consulting the chart, I saw the posi- 
tion of the Nautilus was marked at 16° 17' long., and 33° 
22' lat., at 150 leagues from the nearest coast. There was 
no means of flight, and I leave you to imagine the rage of 
the Canadian when I informed him of our situation. 

For myself, I was not particularly sorry. I felt lightened 
of the load which had oppressed me, and was able to return 
with some degree of calmness to my accustomed work. 

That night, about eleven o’clock, I received a most un- 
expected visit from Captain Nemo. He asked me very 
graciously if I felt fatigued from my watch of the preced- 
ing night. I answered in the negative. 

“Then, M. Aronnax, I propose a curious excursion.” 

“Propose, Captain 

“You have hitherto only visited the submarine depths by 
daylight, under the brightness of the sun. Would it suit 
you to see them in the darkness of the night 

“Most willingly.” 

“I warn you, the way will be tiring. We shall have far 


198 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

to walk, and must climb a mountain. The roads are not 
well kept.” 

“What you say, Captain, only heightens my curiosity ; 1 
am ready to follow you.” 

“Come then, sir, we will put on our diving-dresses.” 

Arrived at the robing-room, I saw that neither of my 
companions nor any of the ship’s crew were to follow us 
on this excursion. Captain Nemo had not even proposed 
my taking with me either Ned or Conseil. 

In a few moments we had put on our diving-dresses ; they 
placed on our backs the reservoirs, abundantly filled with 
air, but no electric lamps were prepared. I called the Cap- 
tain’s attention to the fact. 

“They will be useless,” he replied. 

I thought I had not heard aright, but I could not repeat 
my observation, for the Captain’s head had already disap- 
peared in its metal case. I finished harnessing myself. I felt 
them put an iron-pointed stick into my hand, and some 
minutes later, after going through the usual form, we set 
foot on the bottom of the Atlantic at a depth of 150 fath- 
oms. Midnight was near. The waters were profoundly dark, 
but Captain Nemo pointed out in the distance a reddish 
spot, a sort of large light shining brilliantly about two miles 
from the Nautilus. What this fire might be, what could feed 
it, why and how it lit iip the liquid mass, I could not say. 
In any case, it did light our way, vaguely, it is true, but I 
soon accustomed myself to the peculiar darkness, and I 
understood, under such circumstances, the uselessness of the 
Ruhmkorff apparatus. 

As we advanced, I heard a kind of pattering above my 
head. The noise redoubling, sometimes producing a con- 
tinual shower, I soon understood the cause. It was rain fall- 
ing violently, and crisping the surface of the waves. Instinc- 
tively the thought flashed across my mind that I should be 
wet through! By the water! in the midst of the water! I 
could not help laughing at the odd idea. But, indeed, in the 
thick diving-dress, the liquid element is no longer felt, and 
one only seems to be. in an atmosphere somewhat denser than 
the terrestrial atmosphere. Nothing more. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 199 

After half an hour’s walk the soil became stony. Medusas, 
microscopic Crustacea, and pennatules lit it slightly with 
their phosphorescent gleam. I caught a glimpse of pieces of 
stone covered with millions of zoophytes and masses of sea- 
weed. INIy feet often slipped upon this sticky carpet of sea- 
weed, and without my iron-tipped stick I should have fallen 
more than once. In turning round, I could still see the whit- 
ish lantern of the Nautilus beginning to pale in the distance. 

But the rosy light which guided us increased and lit up 
the horizon. The presence of this fire under water puzzled 
me in the highest degree. Was I going towards a natural 
phenomenon as yet unknown to the savants of the earth 
Or even (for this thought crossed my brain) had the hand 
of man aught to do with this conflagration ? Had he fanned 
this flame Was I to meet in these depths companions and 
friends of Captain Nemo whom he was going to visit, and 
who, like him, led this strange existence Should I find 
down there a whole colony of exiles who, weary of the mis- 
eries of this earth, had sought and found independence in 
the deep ocean All these foolish and unreasonable ideas 
pursued me. And in this condition of mind, over-excited by 
the succession of wonders continually passing before my 
eyes, I should not have been surprised to meet at the bottom 
of the sea one of those submarine towns of which Captain 
Nemo dreamed. 

Our road grew lighter and lighter. The white glimmer 
came in rays from the summit of a mountain about 800 feet 
high. But what I saw was simply a reflection, developed by 
the clearness of the waters. The source of this inexplicable 
light was a fire on the opposite side of the mountain. 

In the midst of this stony maze furrowing the bottom of 
the Atlantic, Captain Nemo advanced without hesitation. 
He knew this dreary road. Doubtless he had often travelled 
over it, and could not lose himself. I followed him with un- 
shaken confidence. He seemed to me like a genie of the sea ; 
and, as he walked before me, I could not help admiring his 
stature, which was outlined in black on the luminous horizon. 

It was one in the morning when we arrived at the first 


200 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

slopes of the mountain ; but to gain access to them we must 
venture through the difficult paths of a vast copse. 

Yes ; a copse of dead trees, without leaves, without sap, 
trees petrified by the action of the water and here and there 
overtopped by gigantic pines. It was like a coal-pit still 
standing, holding by the roots to the broken soil, and whose 
branches, like fine black paper cuttings, showed distinctly 
on the watery ceiling. Picture to yourself a forest in the 
Hartz hanging on to the sides of the mountain, but a forest 
swallowed up. The paths were encumbered with seaweed and 
fucus, between which grovelled a whole world of Crustacea. 
I went along, climbing the rocks, striding over extended 
trunks, breaking the sea bind-weed which hung from one tree 
to the other; and frightening the fishes, which flew from 
branch to branch. Pressing onward, I felt no fatigue. I 
followed my guide, who was never tired. What a spectacle! 
How can I express it.^ how paint the aspect of those woods 
and rocks in this medium — their under parts dark and wild, 
the upper coloured with red tints, by that light which the re- 
flecting powers of the waters doubled.^ We climbed rocks 
which fell directly after with gigantic bounds and the low 
growling of an avalanche. To right and left ran long, dark 
galleries, where sight was lost. Here opened vast glades 
which the hand of man seemed to have worked ; and I some- 
times asked myself if some inhabitant of these submarine 
regions would not suddenly appear to me. 

But Captain Nemo was still mounting. I could not stay 
behind. I followed boldly. My stick gave me good help. A 
false step would have been dangerous on the narrow passes 
sloping down to the sides of the gulfs; but I walked with 
firm step, without feeling any giddiness. Now I jumped a 
crevice, the depth of which would have made me hesitate 
had it been among the glaciers on the land ; now I ventured 
on the unsteady trunk of a tree thrown across from one 
abyss to the other, without looking under my feet, having 
only eyes to admire the wild sites of this region. 

There, monumental rocks, leaning on their regularly-cut 
bases, seemed to defy all laws of equilibrium. From between 
their stony knees trees sprang, like a jet under heavy pres- 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 201 

sure, and upheld others which upheld them. Natural towers, 
large scarps, cut perpendicularly, like a “curtain,” inclined 
at an angle which the laws of gravitation could never have 
tolerated in terrestrial regions. 

Two hours after quitting the Nautilus we had crossed the 
line of trees, and a hundred feet above our heads rose the 
top of the mountain, which cast a shadow on the brilliant 
irradiation of the opposite slope. Some petrified shrubs ran 
fantastically here and there. Fishes got up under our feet 
like birds in the long grass. The massive rocks were rent 
with impenetrable fractures, deep grottos, and unfathom- 
able holes, at the bottom of which formidable creatures might 
be heard moving. My blood curdled when I saw enormous 
antennae blocking my road, or some frightful claw closing 
with a noise in the shadow of some cavity. Millions of lumi- 
nous spots shone brightly in the midst of the darkness. They 
were the eyes of giant Crustacea crouched in their holes; 
giant lobsters setting themselves up like halberdiers, and 
moving their claws with the clicking sound of pincers ; ti- 
tanic crabs, pointed like a gun on its carriage ; and frightful- 
looking poulps, interweaving their tentacles like a living 
nest of serpents. 

We had now arrived on the first platform, where other 
surprises awaited me. Before us lay some picturesque ruins, 
which betrayed the hand of man and not that of the Creator. 
There were vast heaps of stone, amongst which might be 
traced the vague and shadowy forms of castles and temples, 
clothed with a world of blossoming zoophytes, and over 
which, instead of ivy, sea-weed and fucus threw a thick 
vegetable mantle. But what was this portion of the globe 
which had been swallowed by cataclysms.^ Who had placed 
those rocks and stones like cromlechs of prehistoric times 
Where was Whither had Captain Nemo’s fancy hurried 
me.? 

I would fain have asked him; not being able to, I stopped 
him — I seized his arm. But, shaking his head, and pointing 
to the highest point of the mountain, he seemed to say : 

“Come, come along; come higher!” 

I followed, and in a few minutes I had climbed to the 


202 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

top, which for a circle of ten yards commanded the whole 
mass of rock. 

I looked down the side we had just climbed. The moun- 
tain did not rise more than seven or eight hundred feet 
above the level of the plain; but on the opposite side it 
commanded from twice that height the depths of this part 
of the Atlantic. My eyes ranged far over a large space 
lit by a violent fulguration. In fact, the mountain was a 
volcano. 

At fifty feet above the peak, in the midst of a rain of 
stones and scoriae, a large crater was vomiting forth torrents 
of lava which fell in a cascade of fire into the bosom of the 
liquid mass. Thus situated, this volcano lit the lower plain 
like an immense torch, even to the extreme limits of the 
horizon. I said that the submarine crater threw up lava, 
but no flames. Flames require the oxygen of the air to feed 
upon and cannot be developed under water; but streams 
of lava, having in themselves the principles of their incan- 
descence, can attain a white heat, fight vigorously against 
the liquid element^ and turn it to vapour by contact. 

Rapid currents bearing all these gases in diffusion and 
torrents of lava slid to the bottom of the mountain like an 
eruption of Vesuvius on another Terra del Greco. 

There indeed under my eyes, ruined, destroyed, lay a 
town — its roofs open to the sky, its temples fallen, its arches 
dislocated, its columns lying on the ground, from which 
one would still recognise the massive character of Tuscan 
architecture. Further on, some remains of a gigantic aque- 
duct; here the high base of an Acropolis, with the floating 
outline of a Parthenon; there traces of a quay, as if an 
ancient port had formerly abutted on the borders of the 
ocean, and disappeared with its merchant vessels and its 
war-galleys. Farther on again, long lines of sunken walls 
and broad, deserted streets — a perfect Pompeii escaped be- 
neath the waters. Such was the sight that Captain Nemo 
brought before my eyes ! 

Where was Where was 1 ? 1 must know at any cost. 
I tried to speak, but Captain Nemo stopped me by a 


TWENTY THOUSAND TEAGUES UNDER THE SEA WS 

gesture, and, picking up a piece of chalk-stone, advanced 
to a rock of black basalt, and traced the one word: 

Atlantis 

What a light shot through my mind ! Atlantis ! the 
Atlantis of Plato, that continent denied by Origen and 
Humbolt, who placed its disappearance amongst the 
legendary tales. I had it there now before my eyes, bearing 
upon it the unexceptionable testimony of its catastrophe. 
The region thus engulfed was beyond Europe, Asia, and 
Lybia, beyond the columns of Hercules, where those power- 
ful people, the Atlantides, lived, against whom the first 
wars of ancient Greeks were waged. 

Thus, led by the strangest destiny, I was treading under 
foot the mountains of this continent, touching with my hand 
those ruins a thousand generations old and contemporary 
with the geological epochs. I was walking on the very spot 
where the contemporaries of the first man had walked. 

Whilst I was trying to fix in my mind every detail of this 
grand landscape. Captain Nemo remained motionless, as 
if petrified in mute ecstasy, leaning on a mossy stone. Was 
he dreaming of those generations long since disappeared.^ 
Was he asking them the secret of human destiny.? Was 
it here this strange man came to steep himself in historical 
recollections, and live again this ancient life — ^he who 
wanted no modern one.? What would I not have given to 
know his thoughts, to share them, to understand them! We 
remained for an hour at this place, contemplating the vast 
plains under the brightness of the lava, which was some- 
times wonderfully intense. Rapid tremblings ran along the 
mountain caused by internal bubblings, deep noise, dis- 
tinctly transmitted through the liquid medium were echoed 
with majestic grandeur. At this moment the moon appeared 
through the mass of waters and threw her pale rays on the 
buried continent. It was but a gleam, but what an indescrib- 
able effect! The Captain rose, cast one last look on the im- 
mense plain, and then bade me follow him. 

We descended the mountain rapidly, and, the mineral 
forest once passed, I saw the lantern of the Nautilus shining 


204 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

like a star. The Captain walked straight to it, and we got 
on board as the first rays of light whitened the surface of 
the ocean. 


CHAPTER X 

THE SUBMARINE COAL-MINES 

TT HE next day, the 20th of February, I awoke very late : 
the fatigues of the previous night had prolonged my sleep 
until eleven o’clock. I dressed quickly, and hastened to find 
the course the Nautilus was taking. The instruments showed 
it to be still toward the south, with a speed of twenty miles 
an hour and a depth of fifty fathoms. 

The species of fishes here did not differ much from those 
already noticed. There were rays of giant size, five yards 
long, and endowed with great muscular strength, which 
enabled them to shoot above the waves; sharks of many 
kinds ; amongst others, one fifteen feet long, with triangular 
sharp teeth, and whose transparency rendered it almost 
invisible in the water. 

Amongst bony fish Conseil noticed some about three yards 
long, armed at the upper jaw with a piercing sword; other 
bright-coloured creatures, known in the time of Aristotle 
by the name of the sea-dragon, which are dangerous to cap- 
ture on account of the spikes on their back. 

About four o’clock, the soil, generally composed of a 
thick mud mixed with petrified wood, changed by degrees, 
and it became more stony, and seemed strewn with con- 
glomerate and pieces of basalt, with a sprinkling of lava. 
I thought that a mountainous region was succeeding the 
long plains ; and accordingly, after a few evolutions of the 
Nautilus, I saw the southerly horizon blocked by a high 
wall which seemed to close all exit. Its summit evidently 
passed the level of the ocean. It must be a continent, or at 
least an island — one of the Canaries, or of the Cape Verde 
Islands. The bearings not being yet taken, perhaps design- 
edly, I was ignorant of our exact position. In any case, such 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA S05 

a wall seemed to me to mark the limits of that Atlantis, of 
which we had in reality passed over only the smallest part. 

Much longer should I have remained at the window ad- 
miring the beauties of sea and sky, but the panels closed. At 
this moment the Nautilus arrived at the side of this high, 
perpendicular w^all. What it would do, I could not guess. I 
returned to my room; it no longer moved. I laid myself 
down with the full intention of waking after a few hours’ 
sleep; but it was eight o’clock the next day when I entered 
the saloon. I looked at the manometer. It told me that the 
Nautilus was floating on the surface of the ocean. Besides, 
I heard steps on the platform. I went to the panel. It was 
open; but, instead of broad daylight, as I expected, I was 
surrounded by profound darkness. Where were we? Was I 
mistaken? Was it still night? No; not a star was shining 
and night has not that utter darkness. 

I knew not what to think, when a voice near me said: 

‘‘Is that you. Professor?” 

“Ah! Captain,” I answered, “where are we?” 

“Underground, sir.” 

“Underground I” I exclaimed. “And the Nautilus floating 
still ?” 

“It alwaj^s floats.” 

“But I do not understand.” 

“Wait a few minutes, our lantern will be lit, and, if you 
like light places, you will be satisfied.” 

I stood on the platform and waited. The darkness was 
so complete that I could not even see Captain Nemo; but, 
looking to the zenith, exactly above my head, I seemed to 
catch an undecided gleam, a kind of twilight filling a circu- 
lar hole. At this instant the lantern was lit, and its vividness 
dispelled the faint light. I closed my^dazzled eyes for an in- 
stant, and then looked again. The Nautilus was stationary, 
floating near a mountain which formed a sort of quay. The 
lake, then, supporting it was a lake imprisoned by a circle 
of walls, measuring two miles in diameter and six in circum- 
ference. Its level (the manometer showed) could only be the 
same as the outside level, for there must necessarily be a 
communication between the lake and the sea. The high par- 


206 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

titions, leaning forward on their base, grew into a vaulted 
roof bearing the shape of an immense funnel turned upside 
down, the height being about five or six hundred yards. At 
the summit was a circular orifice, by which I had caught 
the slight gleam of light, evidently daylight. 

“Where are we?” I asked. 

“In the very heart of an extinct volcano, the interior of 
which has been invaded by the sea, after some great con- 
vulsion of the earth. Whilst you were sleeping. Professor, 
the Nautilus penetrated to this lagoon by a natural canal, 
which opens about ten yards beneath the surface of the 
ocean. This is its harbour of refuge, a sure, commodious, 
and mysterious one, sheltered from all gales. Show me, if 
you can, on the coasts of any of your continents or islands, 
a road which can give such perfect refuge from all storms.” 

“Certainly,” I replied, “you are in safety here. Captain 
Nemo. Who could reach you in the heart of a volcano? But 
did I not see an opening at its summit?” 

“Yes; its crater, formerly filled with lava, vapour, and 
flames, and which now gives entrance to the life-giving air 
we breathe.” 

“But what is this volcanic mountain?” 

“It belongs to one of the numerous islands with which 
this sea is strewn — to vessels a simple sandbank — to us an 
immense cavern. Chance led me to discover it, and chance 
served me well.” 

“But of what use is this refuge. Captain? The Nautilus 
wants no port.” 

“No, sir; but it wants electricity to make it move, and 
the wherewithal to make the electricity — sodium to feed 
the elements, coal from which to get the sodium, and a 
coal-mine to supply the coal. And exactly on this spot the 
sea covers entire forests embedded during the geological 
periods, now mineralised and transformed into coal; for 
me they are an inexhaustible mine.” 

“Your men follow the trade of miners here, then. 
Captain?” 

“Exactly so. These mines extend under the waves like 
the mines of Newcastle. Here, in their diving-dresses, pick- 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 207 

axe and shovel in hand, my men extract the coal, which 
I do not even ask from the mines of the earth. When I burn 
this combustible for the manufacture of sodium, the smoke, 
escaping from the crater of the mountain, gives it the ap- 
pearance of a still-active volcano.” 

“And we shall see your companions at work.?” 

“No ; not this time at least ; for I am in a hurry to con- 
tinue our submarine tour of the earth. So I shall con- 
tent myself with drawing from the reserv^e of sodium I al- 
ready possess. The time for loading is one day only, and 
we continue our voyage. So, if you wish to go over the cav- 
ern and make the round of the lagoon, you must take ad- 
vantage of to-day, M. Aronnax.” 

I thanked the Captain and went to look for my com- 
panions, who had not yet left their cabin. I invited them to 
follow me without saying where we were. They mounted 
the platform. Conseil, who was astonished at nothing, seemed 
to look upon it as quite natural that he should wake under 
a mountain, after having fallen asleep under the waves. But 
Ned Land thought of nothing but finding whether the cav- 
ern had any exit. After breakfast, about ten o’clock, we went 
down on to the mountain. 

“Here we are, once more on land,” said Conseil. 

“I do not call this land,” said the Canadian. “And be- 
sides, we are not on it, but beneath it.” 

Between the walls of the mountains and the waters of the 
lake lay a sandy shore which, at its greatest breadth, meas- 
ured five hundred feet. On this soil one might easily make 
the tour of the lake. But the base of the high partitions 
was stony ground, with volcanic locks and enormous pumice- 
stones lying in picturesque heaps. All these detached 
masses, covered with enamel, polished by the action of the 
subterraneous fires, shone resplendent by the light of our 
electric lantern. The mica dust from the shore, rising under 
our feet, flew like a cloud of sparks. The bottom now rose 
sensibly, and we soon arrived at long circuitous slopes, or 
inclined planes, which took us higher by degrees; but we 
were obliged to walk carefully among these conglomerates. 


208 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

bound by no cement, the feet slipping on the glassy crystal, 
felspar, and quartz. 

The volcanic nature of this enormous excavation was con- 
firmed on all sides, and I pointed it out to my companions. 

‘Ticture to yourselves,” said I, “what this crater must 
have been when filled with boiling lava, and when the level 
of the incandescent liquid rose to the orifice of the moun- 
tain, as though melted on the top of a hot plate.” 

“I can picture it perfectly,” said Conseil. “But, sir, will 
you tell me why the Great Architect has suspended opera- 
tions, and how it is that the furnace is replaced by the quiet 
waters of the lake.^” 

“Most probably, Conseil, because some convulsion be- 
neath the ocean produced that very opening which has 
served as a passage for the Nautilus. Then the waters of the 
Atlantic rushed into the interior of the mountain. There 
must have been a terrible struggle between the two elements, 
a struggle which ended in the victory of Neptune. But many 
ages have run out since then, and the submerged volcano 
is now a peaceable grotto.” 

“Very well,” replied Ned Land; “I accept the explana- 
tion, sir ; but, in our own interests, I regret that the opening 
of which you speak was not made above the level of the sea.” 

“But, friend Ned,” said Conseil, “if the passage had not 
been under the sea, the Nautilus could not have gone 
through it.” 

We continued ascending. The steps became more and 
more perpendicular and narrow. Deep excavations, which 
we were obliged to cross, cut them here and there; sloping 
masses had to be turned. We slid upon our knees and 
crawled along. But Conseil’s dexterity and the Canadian’s 
strength surmounted all obstacles. At a height of about 81 
feet the nature of the ground changed without becoming 
more practicable. To the conglomerate and trachyte 
succeeded black basalt, the first dispread in layers full of 
bubbles, the latter forming regular prisms, placed like a 
colonnade supporting the spring of the immense vault, an 
admirable specimen of natural architecture. Between the 
blocks of basalt wound long streams of lava, long since 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 209 

grown cold, encrusted with bituminous rays ; and in some 
places there were spread large carpets of sulphur. A more 
powerful light shone through the upper crater, shedding a 
vague glimmer over these volcanic depressions for ever 
buried in the bosom of this extinguished mountain. But 
our upward march was soon stopped at a height of about 
two hundred and fifty feet by impassable obstacles. There 
was a complete vaulted arch overhanging us, and our ascent 
was changed to a circular walk. At the last change vege- 
table life began to struggle with the mineral. Some shrubs, 
and even some trees, grew from the fractures of the walls. 
I recognised some euphorbias, with the caustic sugar coming 
from them; heliotropes, quite incapable of justifying their 
name, sadly drooped their clusters of flowers, both their 
colour and perfume half gone. Here and there some chry- 
santhemums grew timidly at the foot of an aloe with long, 
sickly-looking leaves. But between the streams of lava, I 
saw some little violets still slightly perfumed, and I admit 
that I smelt them with delight. Perfume is the soul of the 
flower, and sea-flowers have no soul. 

We had arrived at the foot of some sturdy dragon-trees, 
which had pushed aside the rocks with their strong roots, 
when Ned Land exclaimed: 

‘‘Ah ! sir, a hive ! a hive !” 

“A hive !” I replied, with a gesture of incredulity. 

“Yes, a hive,” repeated the Canadian, “and bees hum- 
ming round it.” 

I approached, and was bound to believe my own eyes. 
There at a hole bored in one of the dragon-trees were some 
thousands of these ingenious insects, so common in all the 
Canaries, and whose produce is so much esteemed. Naturally 
enough, the Canadian wished to gather the honey, and I 
could not well oppose his wish. A quantity of dry leaves, 
mixed with sulphur, he lit with a spark from his flint, and 
he began to smoke out the bees. The humming ceased by 
degrees, and the hive eventually yielded several pounds of 
the sweetest honey, with which Ned Land filled his haver- 
sack. 

“When I have mixed this honey with the paste of the 


210 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

bread-fruit,” said he, “I shall be able to offer you a succu- 
lent cake.” 

“ ’Pon my word,” said Conseil, “it will be gingerbread.” 

“Never mind the gingerbread,” said I ; “let us continue 
our interesting walk.” 

At every turn of the path we were following, the lake 
appeared in all its length and breadth. The lantern lit up 
the whole of its peaceable surface, which knew neither 
ripple nor wave. The Nautilus remained perfectly immov- 
able. On the platform, and on the mountain, the ship’s crew 
were working like black shadows clearly carved against the 
luminous atmosphere. We were now going round the highest 
crest of the first layers of rock which upheld the roof. I 
then saw that bees were not the only representatives of the 
animal kingdom in the interior of this volcano. Birds of 
prey hovered here and there in the shadows, or fled from 
their nests on the top of the rocks. There were sparrow- 
hawks, with white breasts, and kestrels, and down the slopes 
scampered, with their long legs, several fine fat bustards. 
I leave anyone to imagine the covetousness of the Canadian 
at the sight of this savoury game, and whether he did not 
regret having no gun. But he did his best to replace the 
lead by stones, and, after several fruitless attempts, he 
succeeded in wounding a magnificent bird. To say that he 
risked his life twenty times before reaching it is but the 
truth; but he managed so well that the creature joined 
the honey-cakes in his bag. We were now obliged to descend 
toward the shore, the crest becoming impracticable. Above 
us the crater seemed to gape like the mouth of a well. From 
this place the sky could be clearly seen, and clouds, dissi- 
pated by the west wind, leaving behind them, even on the 
summit of the mountain, their misty remnants — certain 
proof that they were only moderately high, for the volcano 
did not rise more than eight hundred feet above the level 
of the ocean. Half an hour after the Canadian’s last exploit 
we had regained the inner shore. Here the flora was repre- 
sented by large carpets of marine crystal, a little umbel- 
liferous plant very good to pickle, which also bears the name 
of pierce-stone and sea-fennel. Conseil gathered some 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 211 

bundles of it. As to the fauna, it might be counted by thou- 
sands of Crustacea of all sorts, lobsters, crabs, spider-crabs, 
chameleon shrimps, and a large number of shells, rockfish, 
and limpets. Three-quarters of an hour later we had finished 
our circuitous walk and were on board. The crew had just 
finished loading the sodium, and the Nautilus could have 
left that instant. But Captain Nemo gave no order. Did he 
wish to wait until night, and leave the submarine passage 
secretly.?' Perhaps so. Whatever it might be, the next day, 
the Nautilus, having left its port, steered clear of all land 
at a few yards beneath the waves of the Atlantic. 


CHAPTER XI 

THE SARGASSO SEA 

TT HAT day the Nautilus crossed a singular part of the At- 
lantic Ocean. No one can be ignorant of the existence of a 
current of warm water known by the name of the Gulf 
Stream. After leaving the Gulf of Florida, we went in the 
direction of Spitzbergen. But before entering the Gulf of 
Mexico, about 45° of N. lat., this current divides into two 
arms, the principal one going towards the coast of Ireland 
and Norway, whilst the second bends to the south about 
the height of the Azores ; then, touching the African shore, 
and describing a lengthened oval, returns to the Antilles. 
This second arm — ^it is rather a collar than an arm — sur- 
rounds with its circles of warm water that portion of the 
cold, quiet, immovable ocean called the Sargasso Sea, a 
perfect lake in the open Atlantic : it takes no less than three 
years for the great current to pass round it. Such was the 
region the Nautilus was now visiting, a perfect meadow, a 
close carpet of seaweed, fucus, and tropical berries, so thick 
and so compact that the stem of a vessel could hardly tear 
its way through it. And Captain Nemo, not wishing to 
entangle his screw in this herbaceous mass, kept some yards 
beneath the surface of the waves. The name Sargasso comes 
from the Spanish word “sargazzo” which signifies kelp. 


212 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

This kelp, or berry-plant, is the principal formation of this 
immense bank. And this is the reason why these plants unite 
in the peaceful basin of the Atlantic. The only explanation 
which can be given, he says, seems to me to result from the 
experience known to all the world. Place in a vase some 
fragments of cork or other floating body, and give to the 
water in the vase a circular movement, the scattered frag- 
ments will unite in a group in the centre of the liquid sur- 
face, that is to say, in the part least agitated. In the 
phenomenon we are considering, the Atlantic is the vase, 
the Gulf Stream the circular current, and the Sargasso 
Sea the central point at which the floating bodies unite. 

I share Maury’s opinion, and I was able to study the 
phenomenon in the very midst, where vessels rarely pene- 
trate. Above us floated products of all kinds, heaped up 
among these brownish plants ; trunks of trees torn from the 
Andes or the Rocky Mountains, and floated by the Amazon 
or the Mississippi; numerous wrecks, remains of keels, or 
ships’ bottoms, side-planks stove in, and so weighted with 
shells and barnacles that they could not again rise to the 
surface. And time will one day justify Maury’s other 
opinion, that these substances thus accumulated for ages 
will become petrified by the action of the water and mil 
then form inexhaustible coal-mines — a precious reserve 
prepared by far-seeing Nature for the moment when men 
shall h^ve exhausted the mines of continents. 

In the midst of this inextricable mass of plants and sea- 
weed, I noticed some charming pink halcyons and actiniae, 
with their long tentacles trailing after them, and medusae, 
green, red, and blue. 

All the day of the 22nd of February we passed in the 
Sargasso Sea, where such fish as are partial to marine 
plants find abundant nourishment. The next, the ocean had 
returned to its accustomed aspect. From this time for nine- 
teen days, from the 23rd of February to the 12th of March, 
the Nautilus kept in the middle of the Atlantic, carrying us 
at a constant speed of a hundred leagues in twenty-four 
hours. Captain Nemo evidently intended accomplishing his 
submarine programme, and I imagined that he intended. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 21S 

after doubling Cape Horn, to return to the Australian seas 
of the Pacific. Ned Land had cause for fear. In these large 
seas, void of islands, we could not attempt to leave the boat. 
Nor had we any means of opposing Captain Nemo’s will. 
Our only course was to submit; but what we could neither 
gain by force nor cunning, I liked to think might be ob- 
tained by persuasion. This voyage ended, would he not con- 
sent to restore our liberty, under an oatli never to reveal his 
existence.? — an oath of honour which we should have religi- 
ously kept. But we must consider that delicate question with 
the Captain. But was I free to claim this liberty,? Had he 
not himself said from the beginning, in the firmest manner, 
that the secret of his life exacted from him our lasting im- 
prisonment on board the Nautilus? And would not my four 
months’ silence appear to him a tacit acceptance of our 
situation.? And would not a return to the subject result in 
raising suspicions which might be hurtful to our projects, 
if at some future time a favourable opportunity offered to 
return to them.? 

During the nineteen days mentioned above, no incident 
of any kind happened to signalise our voyage. I saw little 
of the Captain; he was at work. In the library I often 
found his books left open, especially those on natural history. 
My work on submarine depths, conned over by him, was 
covered with marginal notes, often contradicting my the- 
ories and systems; but the Captain contented himself with 
thus purging my work ; it was very rare for him to discuss 
it with me. Sometimes I heard the melancholy tones of his 
organ ; but only at night, in the midst of the deepest obscu- 
rity, when the Nautilus slept upon the deserted ocean. Dur- 
ing this part of our voyage ’v^^e sailed whole days on the 
surface of the waves. The sea seemed abandoned. A few 
sailing-vessels, on the road to India, were making for the 
Cape of Good Hope. One day we were followed by the boats 
of a whaler, who, no doubt, took us for some enormous whale 
of great price; but Captain Nemo did not wish the worthy 
fellows to lose their time and trouble, so ended the chase by 
plunging under the water. Our navigation continued until 
the 13th of March; that day the Nautilus was employed in 


214 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

taking soundings, which greatly interested me. We had then 
made about 13,000 leagues since our departure from the 
high seas of the Pacific. The bearings gave us 45° 37' S. lat., 
and 37° 53' W. long. It was the same water in which Cap- 
tain Denham of the Herald sounded 7,000 fathoms without 
finding the bottom. There, too. Lieutenant Parker, of the 
American frigate Congress, could not touch the bottom with 
15,140 fathoms. Captain Nemo intended seeking the bot- 
tom of the ocean by a diagonal sufficiently lengthened by 
means of lateral planes placed at an angle of 45° with the 
water-line of the Nautilus. Then the screw set to work at its 
maximum speed, its four blades beating the waves with in- 
describable force. Under this powerful pressure, the hull 
of the Nautilus quivered like a sonorous chord and sank 
regularly under the water. 

At 7,000 fathoms I saw some blackish tops rising from 
the midst of the waters ; but these summits might belong 
to high mountains like the Himalayas or Mont Blanc, even 
higher; and the depth of the abyss remained incalculable. 
The Nautilus descended still lower, in spite of the great 
pressure. I felt the steel plates tremble at the fastenings 
of the bolts ; its bars bent, its partitions groaned ; the 
windows of the saloon seemed to curve under the pressure 
of the waters. And this firm structure would doubtless have 
yielded, if, as its Captain had said, it had not been capable 
of resistance like a solid block. We had attained a depth of 
16,000 yards (four leagues), and the sides of the Nautilus 
then bore a pressure of 1,600 atmospheres, that is to say, 
3,200 lb. to each square two-fifths of an inch of its surface. 

“What a situation to be in!” I exclaimed. “To overrun 
these deep regions where man has never trod! Look, Cap- 
tain, look at these magnificent rocks, these uninhabited 
grottoes, these lowest receptacles of the globe, where life is 
no longer possible! What unknown sights are here! Why 
should we be unable to preserve a remembrance of them.?^” 

“Would you like to carry away more than the remem- 
brance.^” said Captain Nemo. 

“What do you mean by those words?” 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 215 

‘‘I mean to say that nothing is easier than to make a 
photographic view of this submarine region.” 

I had not time to express my surprise at this new proposi- 
tion, when, at Captain Nemo’s call, an objective was brought 
into the saloon. Through the widely-opened panel, the liquid 
mass was bright with electricity, which was distributed with 
such uniformity that not a shadow, not a gradation, was to 
be seen in our manufactured light. The Nautilus remained 
motionless, the force of its screw subdued by the inclination 
of its planes : the instrument was propped on the bottom of 
the oceanic site, and in a few seconds we had obtained a per- 
fect negative. 

But, the operation being over. Captain Nemo said, ‘‘Let 
us go up ; we must not abuse our position, nor expose the 
Nautilus too long to such great pressure.” 

“Go up again !” I exclaimed. 

“Hold well on.” 

I had not time to understand why the Captain cautioned 
me thus, when I was thrown forward on to the carpet. At 
a signal from the Captain, its screw was shipped, and its 
blades raised vertically; the Nautilus shot into the air like 
a balloon, rising with stunning rapidity, and cutting the 
mass of waters with a sonorous agitation. Nothing was vis- 
ible; and in four minutes it had shot through the four 
leagues which separated it from the ocean, and, after 
emerging like a flying-fish, fell, making the waves rebound 
to an enormous height. 


CHAPTER XII 

CACHALOTS AND WHALES 

During the nights of the 18th and 14th of March, the 
Nautilus returned to its southerly course. I fancied that, 
when on a level with Cape Horn, he would turn the helm 
westward, in order to beat the Pacific seas, and so complete 
the tour of the world. He did nothing of the kind, but 
continued on his way to the southern regions. Where was 


216 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

he going to ? To the pole ?• It was madness ! I began to think 
that the Captain’s temerity justified Ned Land’s fears. For 
some time past the Canadian had not spoken to me of his 
projects of flight; he was less communicative, almost silent. 
I could see that this lengthened imprisonment was weighing 
upon him, and I felt that rage was burning within him. 
When he met the Captain, his eyes lit up with suppressed 
anger; and I feared that his natural violence would lead 
him into some extreme. That day, the 14th of March, Con- 
seil and he came to me in my room. I inquired the cause of 
their visit. 

‘‘A simple question to ask you, sir,” replied the Canadian. 

“Speak, Ned.” 

“How many men are there on board the Nautilus, do you 
think 

“I cannot tell, my friend.” 

“I should say that its working does not require a large 
crew.” 

“Certainly, under existing conditions, ten men, at the 
most, ought to be enough.” 

“Well, why should there be any more.^” 

“Why.?” I replied, looking fixedly at Ned Land, whose 
meaning was easy to guess. “Because,” I added, “if my 
surmises are correct, and if I have well understood the Cap- 
tain’s existence, the Nautilus is not only a vessel: it is also 
a place of refuge for those who, like its commander, have 
broken every tie upon earth.” 

“Perhaps so,” said Conseil ; “but, in any case, the 
Nautilus can only contain a certain number of men. Could 
not you, sir, estimate their maximum.?” 

“How, Conseil.?” 

“By calculation; given the size of the vessel, which you 
know, sir, and consequently the quantity of air it contains, 
knowing also how much each man expends at a breath, and 
comparing these results with the fact that the Nautilus is 
obliged to go to the surface every twenty-four hours.” 

Conseil had not finished the sentence before I saw what 
he was driving at. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA ^17 

“I understand,” said I; “but that calculation, though 
simple enough, can give but a very uncertain result.” 

“Never mind,” said Ned Land urgently. 

“Here it is, then,” said I. “In one hour each man con- 
sumes, the oxygen contained in twenty gallons of air ; and 
in twenty-four, that contained in 480 gallons. We must, 
therefore find how many times 480 gallons of air the 
Nautilus contains.” 

“Just so,” said Conseil. 

“Or,” I continued, “the size of the Nautilus being 1,500 
tons; and one ton holding 200 gallons, it contains 300,000 
gallons of air, which, divided by 480, gives a quotient of 
625. Which means to say, strictly speaking, that the air 
contained in the Nautilus would suffice for 625 men for 
twenty-four hours.” 

“Six hundred and twenty-five!” repeated Ned. 

“But remember that all of us, passengers, sailors, and 
officers included, would not form a tenth part of that 
number.” 

“Still too many for three men,” murmured Conseil. 

The Canadian shook his head, passed his hand across his 
forehead, and left the room without answering. 

“Will you allow me to make one observation, sir.?” said 
Conseil. “Poor Ned is longing for everything that he can- 
not have. His past life is always present to him ; everything 
that we are forbidden he regrets. His head is full of old 
recollections. And we must understand him. What has he to 
do here.? Nothing; he is not learned like you, sir; and has 
not the same taste for the beauties of the sea that we have. 
He would risk everything to be able to go once more into 
a tavern in his own country.” 

Certainly the monotony on board must seem intolerable 
to the Canadian, accustomed as he was to a life of liberty 
and activity. Events were rare which could rouse him to 
any show of spirit ; but that day an event did happen which 
recalled the bright days of the harpooner. About eleven in 
the morning, being on the surface of the ocean, the N autilus 
fell in with a troop of whales — an encounter which did not 


218 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

astonish me, knowing that these creatures, hunted to death, 
had taken refuge in high latitudes. 

We were seated on the platform, with a quiet sea. The 
month of October in those latitudes gave us some lovely 
autumnal days. It was the Canadian — ^he could not be mis- 
taken — who signalled a whale on the eastern horizon. Look- 
ing attentively, one might see its black back rise and fall 
with the waves five miles from the Nautilus. 

“Ah!” exclaimed Ned Land, “if I was on board a whaler, 
now such a meeting would give me pleasure. It is one of 
large size. See with what strength its blow-holes throw up 
columns of air and steam! Confound it, why am I bound to 
these steel plates.?” 

“What, Ned,” said I, “you have not forgotten your old 
ideas of fishing.?” 

“Can a whale-fisher ever forget his old trade, sir.? Can 
he ever tire of the emotions caused by such a chase.?” 

“You have never fished in these seas, Ned.?” 

“Never, sir; in the northern only, and as much in Beh- 
ring as in Davis Straits.” 

“Then the southern whale is still unknown to you. It is 
the Greenland whale you have hunted up to this time, and 
that would not risk passing through the warm waters of the 
equator. Whales are localised, according to their kinds, in 
certain seas which they never leave. And if one of these 
creatures went from Behring to Davis Straits, it must be 
simply because there is a passage from one sea to the other, 
either on the American or the Asiatic side.” 

“In that case, as I have never fished in these seas, I do 
not know the kind of whale frequenting them !” 

“I have told you, Ned.” 

“A greater reason for making their acquaintance,” said 
Conseil. 

“Look! look!” exclaimed the Canadian, “they approach: 
they aggravate me ; they know that I cannot get at them !” 

Ned stamped his feet. His hand trembled, as he grasped 
an imaginary harpoon. 

“Are these cetaceans as large as those of the northern 
seas.?” asked he. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 219 

“Very nearly, Ned.” 

“Because I have seen large whales, sir, whales measuring 
a hundred feet. I have even been told that those of Hulla- 
moch and Umgallick, of the Aleutian Islands, are sometimes 
a hundred and fifty feet long.” 

“That seems to me exaggeration. These creatures are 
generally much smaller than the Greenland whale.” 

“Ah !” exclaimed the Canadian, whose eyes had never left 
the ocean, “they are coming nearer; they are in the same 
water as the Nautilus. 

Then, returning to the conversation, he said : 

“You spoke of the cachalot as a small creature. I have 
heard of gigantic ones. They are intelligent cetacea. It is 
said of some that they cover themselves with seaweed and 
fucus, and then are taken for islands. People encamp upon 
them, and settle there; lights a fire ” 

“And build houses,” said Conseil. 

“Yes, joker,” said Ned Land. “And one fine day the 
creature plunges, carrying with it all the inhabitants to the 
bottom of the sea.” 

“Something like the travels of Sinbad the Sailor,” I 
replied, laughing. 

“Ah!” suddenly exclaimed Ned Land, “it is not one 
whale ; there are ten — there are twenty — it is a whole troop I 
And I not able to do anything! hands and feet tied!” 

“But, friend Ned,” said Conseil, “why do you not ask 
Captain Nemo’s permission to chase them.?” 

Conseil had not finished his sentence when Ned Land had 
lowered himself through the panel to seek the Captain. A 
few minutes afterwards the two appeared together on the 
platform. 

Captain Nemo watched the troop of cetacea playing on 
the waters about a mile from the Nautilus. 

“They are southern whales,” said he ; “there goes the 
fortune of a whole fleet of whalers.” 

“Well, sir,” asked the Canadian, “can I not chase them, 
if only to remind me of my old trade of harpooner.?” 

“And to what purpose.?” replied Captain Nemo; “only 


220 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

to destroy ! We have nothing to do with the whale-oil on 
board.” 

“But, sir,” continued the Canadian, “in the Red Sea you 
allowed us to follow the dugong.” 

“Then it was to procure fresh meat for my crew. Here 
it would be killing for killing’s sake. I know that is a privi- 
lege reserved for man, but I do not approve of such mur- 
derous pastime. In destroying the southern whale (like the 
Greenland whale, an inoffensive creature), your traders do 
a culpable action. Master Land. They have already depop- 
ulated the whole of Baffin’s Bay, and are annihilating a 
class of useful animals. Leave the unfortunate cetacea alone. 
They have plenty of natural enemies — cachalots, swordfish, 
and sawfish — without you troubling them.” 

The Captain was right. The barbarous and inconsiderate 
greed of these fishermen will one day cause the disappear- 
ance of the last whale in the ocean. Ned Land whistled 
“Yankee-doodle” between his teeth, thrust his hands into 
his pockets, and turned his back upon us. But Captain 
Nemo watched the troop of cetacea, and, addressing me, 
said: 

“I was right in saying that whales had natural enemies 
enough, without counting man. These will have plenty to 
do before long. Do you see, M. Aronnax, about eight miles 
to leeward, those blackish moving points 

“Yes, Captain,” I replied. 

“Those are cachalots — ^terrible animals, which I have 
met in troops of two or three hundred. As to those, they 
are cruel, mischievous creatures; they would be right in 
exterminating them.” 

The Canadian turned quickly at the last words. 

“Well, Captain,” said he, “it is still time, in the interest 
of the whales.’ 

“It is useless to expose one’s self. Professor. The Nautilus 
will disperse them. It is armed with a steel spur as good as 
Master Land’s harpoon, I imagine.” 

The Canadian did not put himself out enough to shrug 
his shoulders. Attack cetacea with blows of a spur ! Who had 
ever heard of such a thing? 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 221 

“Wait, M. Aronnax,” said Captain Nemo. “We will show 
you something you have never yet seen. We have no pity 
for these ferocious creatures. They are nothing but mouth 
and teeth.” 

Mouth and teeth ! No one could better describe the macro- 
cephalous cachalot, which is sometimes more than seventy- 
five feet long. Its enormous head occupies one-third of its 
entire body. Better armed than the whale, whose upper jaw 
is furnished only with whalebone, it is supplied with twenty- 
five large tusks, about eight inches long, cylindrical and 
conical at the top, each weighing two pounds. It is in the 
upper part of this enormous head, in great cavities divided 
by cartilages, that is to be found from six to eight hundred 
pounds of that precious oil called spermaceti. The cachalot 
is a disagreeable creature, more tadpole than fish, according 
to FredoPs description. It is badly formed, the whole of its 
left side being (if we may say it), a “failure,” and being 
only able to see with its right eye. But the formidable troop 
was nearing us. They had seen the whales and were pre- 
paring to attack them. One could judge beforehand that 
the cachalots would be victorious, not only because they 
were better built for attack than their inoffensive adver- 
saries, but also because they could remain longer under 
water without coming to the surface. There was only just 
time to go to the help of the whales. The Nautilus went 
under water. Conseil, Ned Land, and I took our places 
before the window in the saloon, and Captain Nemo joined 
the pilot in his cage to work his apparatus as an engine 
of destruction. Soon I felt the beatings of the screw quicken, 
and our speed increased. The battle between the cachalots 
and the whales had already begun when the Nautilus ar- 
rived. They did not at first show any fear at the sight of 
this new monster joining in the conflict. But they soon had 
to guard against its blows. What a battle! The Nautilus 
was nothing but a formidable harpoon, brandished by the 
hand of its Captain. It hurled itself against the fleshy mass, 
passing through from one part to the other, leaving behind 
it two quivering halves of the animal. It could not feel the 
formidable blows from their tails upon its sides, nor the 


222 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

shock which it produced itself, much more. One cachalot 
killed, it ran at the next, tacked on the spot that it might 
not miss its prey, going forwards and backwards, answering 
to its helm, plunging when the cetacean dived into the deep 
waters, coming up with it when it returned to the surface, 
striking it front or sideways, cutting or tearing in all direc- 
tions and at any pace, piercing it with its terrible spur. What 
carnage ! What a noise on the surface of the waves 1 What 
sharp hissing, and what snorting peculiar to these enraged 
animals ! In the midst of these waters, generally so peace- 
ful, their tails made perfect billows. For one hour this 
wholesale massacre continued, from which the cachalots 
could not escape. Several times ten or twelve united tried 
to crush the Nautilus by their weight. From the window 
we could see their enormous mouths, studded with tusks, 
and their formidable eyes. Ned Land could not contain him- 
self ; he threatened and swore at them. We could feel them 
clinging to our vessel like dogs worrying a wild boar in a 
copse. But the Nautilus^ working its screw, carried them 
here and there, or to the upper levels of the ocean, without 
caring for their enormous weight, nor the powerful strain 
on the vessel. At length the mass of cachalots broke up, 
the waves became quiet, and I felt that we were rising to 
the surface. The panel opened, and we hurried on to the 
platform. The sea was covered with mutilated bodies. A 
formidable explosion could not have divided and. torn this 
fleshy mass with more violence. We were floating amid gi- 
gantic bodies, bluish on the back and white underneath, 
covered with enormous protuberances. Some terrified cacha- 
lots were flying towards the horizon. The waves were dyed 
red for several miles, and the Nautilus floated in a sea of 
blood: Captain Nemo joined us. 

‘‘Well, Master Land.^” said he. 

“Well, sir,” replied the Canadian, whose enthusiasm had 
somewhat calmed; “it is a terrible spectacle, certainly. But 
I am not a butcher. I am a hunter, and I call this a 
butchery.” 

“It is a massacre of mischievous creatures,” replied the 
Captain ; “and the Nautilus is not a butcher’s knife.” 


TWENTY THOUSAND TEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

“I like my harpoon better,” said the Canadian. 

“Every one to his own,” answered the Captain, looking 
fixedly at Ned Land. 

I feared he would commmit some act of violence, which 
would end in sad consequences. But his anger was turned 
by the sight of a whale which the Nautilus had just come up 
with. The creature had not quite escaped from the cachalot’s 
teeth. I recognised the southern whale by its flat head, which 
is entirely black. Anatomically, it is distinguished from 
the white whale and the North Cape whale by the seven 
cervical vertebrae, and it has two more ribs than its con- 
geners. The unfortunate cetacean was lying on its side, rid- 
dled with holes from the bites, and quite dead. From its 
mutilated fin still hung a young whale which it could not 
save from the massacre. Its open mouth let the water flow 
in and out, murmuring like the waves breaking on the shore. 
Captain Nemo steered close to the corpse of the creature. 
Two of his men mounted its side, and I saw, not without 
surprise, that they were drawing from its breasts all the 
milk which they contained, that is to say, about two or 
three tons. The Captain offered me a cup of the milk, which 
was still w^arm. I could not help showing my repugnance to 
the drink; but he assured me that it was excellent, and not 
to be distinguished from cow’s milk. I tasted it, and was of 
his opinion. It was a useful reserve to us, for in the shape 
of salt butter or cheese it would form an agreeable variety 
from our ordinary food. From that day I noticed with 
uneasiness that Ned Land’s ill-will towards Captain Nemo 
increased, and I resolved to watch the Canadian’s gestures 
closely. 


CHAPTER XIII 

THE ICEBERG 

T HE Nautilus was steadily pursuing its southerly course, 
following the fiftieth meridian with considerable speed. Did 
he wish to reach the pole.^ I did not think so, for every 


224 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

attempt to reach that point had hitherto failed. Again, i 
the season was far advanced, for in the Antarctic regions 
the 13th of March corresponds with the 13th of September 
of northern regions, which begin at the equinoctial season. 

On the 14th of March I saw floating ice in latitude 55°, 
merely pale bits of debris from twenty to twenty-five feet 
long, forming banks over which the sea curled. The Nautilus 
remained on the surface of the ocean. Ned Land, who had 
fished in the Arctic Seas, was familiar with its icebergs ; but 
Conseil and I admired them for the first time. In the at- 
mosphere towards the southern horizon stretched a white 
dazzling band. English whalers have given it the name of 
‘fice blink.” However thick the clouds may be, it is always 
visible, and announces the presence of an ice pack or bank. 
Accordingly, larger blocks soon appeared, whose brilliancy 
changed with the caprices of the fog. Some of these masses | 
showed green veins, as if long undulating lines had been 
traced with sulphate of copper; others resembled enormous 
amethysts with the light shining through them. Some re- 
flected the light of day upon a thousand crystal facets. 
Others shaded with vivid calcareous reflections resembled a 
perfect town of marble. The more we neared the south the 
more these floating islands increased both in number and 
importance. 

At 60° lat. every pass had disappeared. But, seeking ! 

carefully. Captain Nemo soon found a narrow opening, ' 

through which he boldly slipped, knowing, however, that 
it would close behind him. Thus, guided by this clever hand, 
the Nautilus passed through all the ice with a precision ■ 
which quite charmed Conseil; icebergs or mountains, ice- ] 
fields or smooth plains, seeming to have no limits, drift-ice i 
or floating ice-packs, plains broken up, called palchs when ' 
they are circular, and streams when they are made up 
of long strips. The temperature was very low; the ther- 
mometer exposed to the air marked 2° or 3° below zero, i 

but we were warmly clad with fur, at the expense of the 
sea-bear and seal. The interior of the Nautilus, warmed 
regularly by its electric apparatus, defied the most intense 
cold. Besides, it would only have been necessary to go some ' 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 225 

yards beneath the waves to find a more bearable tempera- 
ture. Two months earlier we should have had perpetual day- 
light in these latitudes ; but already we had had three or 
four hours of night, and by and by there would be six 
months of darkness in these circumpolar regions. On the 
15th of INIarch we were in the latitude of New Shetland and 
South Orkney. The Captain told me that formerly numerous 
tribes of seals inhabited them ; but that English and Amer- 
ican whalers, in their rage for destruction, massacred both 
old and young ; thus, where there was once life and anima- 
tion, they had left silence and death. 

About eight o’clock on the morning of the 16th of March 
the Nautilus, following the fifty-fifth meridian, cut the 
Antarctic polar circle. Ice surrounded us on all sides, and 
closed the horizon. But Captain Nemo went from one open- 
ing to another, still going higher. I cannot express my 
astonishment at the beauties of these new regions. The ice 
took most surprising forms. Here the grouping formed an 
oriental town, with innumerable mosques and minarets ; 
there a fallen city thrown to the earth, as it were, by some 
convulsion of nature. The whole aspect was constantly 
changed by the oblique rays of the sun, or lost in the greyish 
fog amidst hurricanes of snow. Detonations and falls were 
heard on all sides, great overthrows of icebergs, which 
altered the whole landscape like a diorama. Often seeing no 
exit, I thought we were definitely prisoners; but, instinct 
guiding him at the slightest indication. Captain Nemo 
would discover a new pass. He was never mistaken when he 
saw the thin threads of bluish water trickling along the ice- 
fields ; and I had no doubt that he had already ventured into 
' the midst of these Antarctic seas before. On the 16th of 
March, however, the ice-fields absolutely blocked our road. 
It was not the iceberg itself, as yet, but vast fields cemented 
by the cold. But this obstacle could not stop Captain Nemo : 
he hurled himself against it with frightful violence. The 
Nautilus entered the brittle mass like a wedge, and split it 
with frightful crackings. It was the battering ram of the 
ancients hurled by infinite strength. The ice, thrown high 
in the air, fell like hail around us. By its own power of 


^26 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

impulsion our apparatus made a canal for itself ; some- 
times carried away by its own impetus, it lodged on the 
ice-field, crushing it with its weight, and sometimes buried 
beneath it, dividing it by a simple pitching movement, pro- 
ducing large rents in it. Violent gales assailed us at this 
time, accompanied by thick fogs, through which, from one 
end of the platform to the other, we could see nothing. 
The wind blew sharply from all parts of the compass, and 
the snow lay in such hard heaps that we had to break it 
with blows of a pickaxe. The temperature was always at 5° 
below zero ; every outward part of the Nautilus was covered 
with ice. A rigged vessel would have been entangled in 
the blocked up gorges. A vessel without sails, with electric- 
ity for its motive power, and wanting no coal, could alone 
brave such high latitudes. At length, on the 18th of March, 
after many useless assaults, the Nautilus was posi- 
tively blocked. It was no longer either streams, packs, or 
ice-fields, but an interminable and immovable barrier, 
formed by mountains soldered together. 

“An iceberg !” said the Canadian to me. 

I knew that to Ned Land, as well as to all other navi- 
gators who had preceded us, this was an inevitable obstacle. 
The sun appearing for an instant at noon. Captain Nemo 
took an observation as near as possible, which gave our 
situation at 51° 30' long, and 67° 39' of S. lat. We had 
advanced one degree more in this Antarctic region. Of the 
liquid surface of the sea there was no longer a glimpse. 
Under the spur of the Nautilus lay stretched a vast plain, 
entangled with confused blocks. Here and there sharp points 
and slender needles rising to a height of SOO feet; further 
on a steep shore, hewn as it were with an axe and clothed 
with greyish tints ; huge mirrors, reflecting a few rays of 
sunshine, half drowned in the fog. And over this desolate 
face of nature a stern silence reigned, scarcely broken by 
the flapping of the wings of petrels and puffins. Everything 
was frozen — even the noise. The Nautilus was then obliged 
to stop in its adventurous course amid these fields of ice. 
In spite of our efforts, in spite of the powerful means em- 
ployed to break up the ice, the Nautilus remained immov- 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 227 

able. Generally, when we can proceed no further, we have 
return still open to us ; but here return was as impossible 
as advance, for every pass had closed behind us; and for 
the few moments when we were stationary, we were likely to 
be entirely blocked, which did indeed happen about two 
o’clock in the afternoon, the fresh ice forming around its 
sides with astonishing rapidity. I was obliged to admit that 
Captain Nemo was more than imprudent. I was on the plat- 
form at that moment. The Captain had been observing 
our situation for some time past, when he said to me : 

‘‘Well, sir, what do you think of this?” 

“I think that we are caught. Captain.” 

“So, M. Aronnax, you really think that the Nautilus can- 
not disengage itself?” 

“With difficulty. Captain; for the season is already too 
far advanced for you to reckon on the breaking of the ice.” 

“Ah! sir,” said Captain Nemo, in an ironical tone, “you 
will always be the same. You see nothing but difficulties and 
obstacles. I affirm that not only can the Nautilus disengage 
itself, but also that it can go further still.” 

“Further to the South?” I asked, looking at the Captain. 

“Yes, sir; it shall go to the pole.” 

“To the pole!” I exclaimed, unable to repress a gesture 
of incredulity. 

“Yes,” replied the Captain, coldly, “to the Antarctic pole 
— to that unknown point from whence springs every merid- 
ian of the globe. You know whether I can do as I please 
with the Nautilus !” 

Yes, I knew that. I knew that this man was bold, even to 
rashness. But to conquer those obstacles which bristled round 
the South Pole, rendering it more inaccessible than the 
North, which had not yet been reached by the boldest navi- 
gators — was it not a mad enterprise, one which only a 
maniac would have conceived? It then came into my head 
to ask Captain Nemo if he had ever discovered that pole 
which had never yet been trodden by a human creature? 

“No, sir,” he replied; “but we will discover it together. 
Where others have failed, I will not fail. I have never yet 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

led my Nautilus so far into southern seas ; but, I repeat, it 
shall go further yet.” 

“I can well believe you. Captain,” said I, in a slightly 
ironical tone. “I believe you ! Let us go ahead ! There are 
no obstacles for us! Let us smash this iceberg! Let us blow 
it up ; and, if it resists, let us give the Nautilus wings to 
fly over it !” 

‘‘Over it, sir!!” said Captain Nemo, quietly; “no, not 
over it, h\xi under it!” 

“Under it !” I exclaimed, a sudden idea of the Captain’s 
projects flashing upon my mind. I understood; the wonder- 
ful qualities of the Nautilus were going to serve us in this 
superhuman enterprise. 

“I see we are beginning to understand one another, sir,” 
said the Captain, half smiling. “You begin to see the possi- 
bility — I should say the success — of this attempt. That 
which is impossible for an ordinary vessel is easy to the 
Nautilus, If a continent lies before the pole, it must stop 
before the continent ; but if, on the contrary, the pole is 
washed by open sea, it will go even to the pole.” 

“Certainly,” said I, carried away by the Captain’s rea- 
soning; “if the surface of the sea is solidified by the ice, 
the lower depths are free by the Providential law which has 
placed the maximum of density of the waters of the ocean 
one degree higher than freezing-point; and, if I am not 
mistaken, the portion of this iceberg which is above the 
water is as one to four to that which is below.” 

“Very nearly, sir; for one foot of iceberg above the sea 
there are three below it. If these ice mountains are not 
more than 300 feet above the surface, they are not more 
than 900 beneath. And what are 900 feet to the Nautilus?^’ 

“Nothing, sir.” 

“It could even seek at greater depths that uniform tem- 
perature of sea-water, and there brave with impunity the 
thirty or forty degrees of surface cold.” 

“Just so, sir — just so,” I replied, getting animated. 

“The only difficulty,” continued Captain Nemo, “is that 
of remaining several days without renewing our provision 
of air.” 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 2^9 

“Is that all? The Nautilus has vast reservoirs; we can fill 
them, and they will supply us with all the oxygen we want.” 

“Well thought of, M. Aronnax,” replied the Captain, 
smiling. “But, not wishing you to accuse me of rashness, I 
will first give you all my objections.” 

“Have you any more to make?” 

“Only one. It is possible, if the sea exists at the South 
Pole, that it may be covered; and, consequently, we shall 
be unable to come to the surface.” 

“Good, sir ! but do you forget that the Nautilus is armed 
with a powerful spur, and could we not send it diagonally 
against these fields of ice, which would open at the shocks.” 

“Ah ! sir, you are full of ideas to-day.” 

“Besides, Captain,” I added, enthusiastically, “why 
should we not find the sea open at the South Pole as well 
as at the North? The frozen poles of the earth do not coin- 
cide, either in the southern or in the northern regions ; and, 
until it is proved to the contrary, we may suppose either a 
continent or an ocean free from ice at these two points of 
the globe.” 

“I think so too, M. Aronnax,” replied Captain Nemo. 
“I only wish you to observe that, after having made so many 
objections to my project, you are now crushing me with 
arguments in its favour!” 

The preparations for this audacious attempt now began. 
The powerful pumps of the Nautilus were working air into 
the reservoirs and storing it at high pressure. About four 
o’clock. Captain Nemo announced the closing of the panels 
on the platform. I threw one last look at the massive ice- 
berg which we were going to cross. The weather was clear, 
the atmosphere pure enough, the cold very great, being 
12° below zero; but, the wind having gone down, this tem- 
perature was not so unbearable. About ten men mounted 
the sides of the Nautilus, armed with pickaxes to break the 
ice around the vessel, which was soon free. The operation 
was quickly performed, for the fresh ice was still very thin. 
We all went below. The usual reservoirs were filled with the 
newly -liberated water, and the Nautilus soon descended. I 
had taken my place with Conseil in the saloon ; through the 


230 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

open window we could see the lower beds of the Southern 
Ocean. The thermometer went up, the needle of the compass 
deviated on the dial. At about 900 feet, as Captain Nemo 
had foreseen, we were floating beneath the undulating bottom 
of the iceberg. But the Nautilus went lower still — it went 
to the depth of four hundred fathoms. The temperature of 
the water at the surface showed twelve degrees, it was now 
only ten ; we had gained two. I need not say the temperature 
of the Nautilus was raised by its heating apparatus to a 
much higher degree ; every manoeuvre was accomplished with 
wonderful precision. 

“We shall pass it, if you please, sir,” said Conseil. 

“I believe we shall,” I said, in a tone of firm conviction. 

In this open sea, the Nautilus had taken its course direct 
to the pole, without leaving the fifty-second meridian. From 
67° 30' to 90°, twenty-two degrees and a half of latitude 
remained to travel ; that is, about five hundred leagues. The 
Nautilus kept up a mean speed of twenty-six miles an hour 
— the speed of an express train. If that was kept up, in 
forty hours we should reach the pole. 

For a part of the night the novelty of the situation kept 
us at the window. The sea was lit with the electric lantern ; 
but it was deserted ; fishes did not sojourn in these imprisoned 
waters ; they only found there a passage to take them from 
the Antarctic Ocean to the open polar sea. Our pace was 
rapid; we could feel it by the quivering of the long steel 
body. About two in the morning I took some hours’ repose, 
and Conseil did the same. In crossing the waist I did not 
meet Captain Nemo: I supposed him to be in the pilot’s 
cage. The next morning, the 19th of March, I took my post 
once more in the saloon. The electric log told me that the 
speed of the Nautilus had been slackened. It was then going 
towards the surface; but prudently emptying its reservoirs 
very slowly. My heart beat fast. Were we going to emerge 
and regain the open polar atmosphere No! A shock told me 
that the Nautilus had struck the bottom of the iceberg, still 
very thick, judging from the deadened sound. We had in- 
deed “struck,” to use a sea expression, but in an inverse 
sense, and at a thousand feet deep. This would give three 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

thousand feet of ice above us ; one thousand being above the 
water-mark. The iceberg was then higher than at its borders 
— not a very reassuring fact. Several times that day the 
Nautilus tried again, and every time it struck the wall 
which lay like a ceiling above it. Sometimes it met with 
but 900 yards, only 200 of which rose above the surface. It 
was twice the height it was when the Nautilus had gone 
under the waves. I carefully noted the different depths, and 
thus obtained a submarine profile of the chain as it was 
developed under the water. That night no change had taken 
place in our situation. Still ice between four and five hun- 
dred yards in depth ! It was evidently diminishing, but, still, 
what a thickness between us and the surface of the ocean! 
It was then eight. According to the daily custom on board 
the Nautilus^ its air should have been renewed four hours 
ago; but I did not suffer much, although Captain Nemo had 
not yet made any demand upon his reserve of oxygen. My 
sleep was painful that night ; hope and fear besieged me by 
turns: I rose several times. The groping of the Nautilus 
continued. About three in the morning, I noticed that the 
lower surface of the iceberg was only about fifty feet deep. 
One hundred and fifty feet now separated us from the sur- 
face of the waters. The iceberg was by degrees becoming 
an ice-field, the mountain a plain. My eyes never left the 
manometer. We were still rising diagonally to the surface, 
which sparkled under the electric rays. The iceberg was 
stretching both above and beneath into lengthening slopes; 
mile after mile it was getting thinner. At length, at six in 
the morning of that memorable day, the 19th of March, the 
door of the saloon opened, and Captain Nemo appeared. 

“The sea is open 1 1” was all he said. 


CHAPTER XIV 

THE SOUTH POLE 

I RUSHED on to the platform. Yes! the open sea, with but 
a few scattered pieces of ice and moving icebergs — a long 


232 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

stretch of sea; a world of birds in the air, and myriads of 
fishes under those waters, which varied from intense blue to 
olive green, according to the bottom. The thermometer 
marked 3° C. above zero. It was comparatively spring, shut 
up as we were behind this iceberg, whose lengthened mass 
was dimly seen on our northern horizon. 

“Are we at the pole ?” I asked the Captain, with a beating 
heart. 

“I do not know,” he replied. “At noon I will take our 
bearings.” 

“But will the sun show himself through this fog?” said I, 
looking at the leaden sky. 

“However little it shows, it will be enough,” replied the 
Captain. 

About ten miles south a solitary island rose to a height 
of one hundred and four yards. We made for it, but care- 
fully, for the sea might be strewn with banks. One hour 
afterwards we had reached it, two hours later we had made 
the round of it. It measured four or five miles in circum- 
ference. A narrow canal separated it from a considerable 
stretch of land, perhaps a continent, for we could not see its 
limits. The existence of this land seemed to give some colour 
to Maury’s theory. The ingenious American has remarked 
that, between the South Pole and the sixtieth parallel, the 
sea is covered with floating ice of enormous size, which is 
never met with in the North Atlantic. From this fact he has 
drawn the conclusion that the Antarctic Circle encloses con- 
siderable continents, as icebergs cannot form in open sea, 
but only on the coasts. According to these calculations, the 
mass of ice surrounding the southern pole forms a vast cap, 
the circumference of which must be, at least, 2,500 miles. 
But the Nautilus, for fear of running aground, had stopped 
about three cable-lengths from a strand over which reared 
a superb heap of rocks. The boat was launched; the Cap- 
tain, two of his men, bearing instruments, Conseil, and my- 
self were in it. It was ten in the morning. I had not seen 
Ned Land. Doubtless the Canadian did not wish to admit 
the presence of the South Pole. A few strokes of the oar 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 238 

brought US to the sand, where we ran ashore. Conseil was 
going to jump on to the land, when I held him back. 

“Sir,” said I to Captain Nemo, “to you belongs the 
honour of first setting foot on this land.” 

“Yes, sir,” said the Captain, “and if I do not hesitate to 
tread this South Pole, it is because, up to this time, no 
human being has left a trace there.” 

Saying this, he jumped lightly on to the sand. His heart 
beat with emotion. He climbed a rock, sloping to a little 
promontory, and there, with his arms crossed, mute and 
motionless, and with an eager look, he seemed to take pos- 
session of these southern regions. After five minutes passed 
in this ecstasy, he turned to us. 

“When you like, sir.” 

I landed, followed by Conseil, leaving the two men in the 
boat. For a long way the soil was composed of a reddish 
sandy stone, something hke crushed brick, scoriae, streams 
of lava, and pumice-stones. One could not mistake its vol- 
canic origin. In some parts, slight curls of smoke emitted 
a sulphurous smell, proving that the internal fires had lost 
nothing of their expansive powers, though, having climbed 
a high acclivity, I could see no volcano for a radius of several 
miles. We know that in those Antarctic countries, James 
Ross found two craters, the Erebus and Terror, in full 
activity, on the 167th meridian, latitude 77° 82'. The vege- 
tation of this desolate continent seemed to me much re- 
stricted. Some lichens lay upon the black rocks ; some micro- 
scopic plants, rudimentary diatomas, a kind of cells placed 
between two quartz shells; long purple and scarlet weed, 
supported on little swimming bladders, which the breaking 
of the waves brought to the shore. These constituted the 
meagre flora of this region. The shore was strewm with 
molluscs, little mussels, and limpets. I also saw myriads of 
northern clios, one-and-a-quarter inches long, of which a 
whale would swallow a whole world at a mouthful ; and some 
perfect sea-butterflies, animating the waters on the skirts 
of the shore. 

There appeared on the high bottoms some coral shrubs, 
of the kind which, according to James Ross, live in the Ant- 


234 ) TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

arctic seas to the depth of more than 1,000 yards. Then there 
were little kingfishers and starfish studding the soil. But 
where life abounded most was in the air. There thousands of 
birds fluttered and flew of all kinds, deafening us with their 
cries ; others crowded the rock, looking at us as we passed 
by without fear, and pressing familiarly close by our feet. 
There were penguins, so agile in the water, heavy and awk- 
ward as they are on the ground; they were uttering harsh 
cries, a large assembly, sober in gesture, but extravagant 
in clamour. Albatrosses passed in the air, the expanse of 
their wings being at least four yards and a half, and justly 
called the vultures of the ocean ; some gigantic petrels, and 
some damiers, a kind of small duck, the underpart of whose 
body is black and white; then there were a whole series of 
petrels, some whitish, with brown-bordered wings, others 
blue, peculiar to the Antarctic seas, and so oily, as I told 
Conseil, that the inhabitants of the Ferroe Islands had 
nothing to do before lighting them but to put a wick in. 

‘‘A little more,” said Conseil, ‘‘and they would be perfect 
lamps! After that, we cannot expect Nature to have pre- 
viously furnished them with wicks 1” 

About half a mile farther on the soil was riddled with 
ruffs’ nests, a sort of laying-ground, out of which many 
birds were issuing. Captain Nemo had some hundreds 
hunted. They uttered a cry like the braying of an ass, were 
about the size of a goose, slate-colour on the body, white 
beneath, with a yellow line round their throats; they al- 
lowed themselves to be killed with a stone, never trying 
to escape. But the fog did not lift, and at eleven the sun had 
not yet shown itself. Its absence made me uneasy. Without 
it no observations were possible. How, then, could we decide 
whether we had reached the pole.^^ When I rejoined Captain 
Nemo, I found him leaning on a piece of rock, silently 
watching the sky. He seemed impatient and vexed. But 
what was to be done.? This rash and powerful man could 
not command the sun as he did the sea. Noon arrived without 
the orb of day showing itself for an instant. We could not 
even tell its position behind the curtain of fog ; and soon the 
fog turned to snow. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 235 

“Till to-morrow,” said the Captain, quietly, and we re- 
turned to the Nautilus amid these atmospheric disturbances. 

The tempest of snow continued till the next day. It was 
impossible to remain on the platform. From the saloon, 
where I was taking notes of incidents happening during 
this excursion to the polar continent, I could hear the cries 
of petrels and albatrosses sporting in the midst of this violent 
storm. The Nautilus did not remain motionless, but skirted 
the coast, advancing ten miles more to the south in the 
half-light left by the sun as it skirted the edge of the 
horizon. The next day, the 20th of March, the snow had 
ceased. The cold was a little greater, the thermometer show- 
ing 2° below zero. The fog was rising, and I hoped that 
that day our observations might be taken. Captain Nemo 
not having yet appeared, the boat took Conseil and myself 
to land. The soil was still of the same volcanic nature; 
everywhere were traces of lava, scoriae, and basalt; but the 
crater which had vomited them I could not see. Here, as 
lower down, this continent was alive with myriads of birds. 
But their rule was now divided with large troops of sea- 
mammals, looking at us with their soft eyes. There were 
several kinds of seals, some stretched on the earth, some on 
flakes of ice, many going in and out of the sea. They did not 
flee at our approach, never having had anything to do with 
man; and I reckoned that there were provisions there for 
hundreds of vessels. 

“Sir,” said Conseil, “will you tell me the names of these 
creatures.^” 

“They are seals and morses.” 

It was now eight in the morning. Four hours remained 
to us before the sun could be observed with advantage. I 
directed our steps towards a vast bay cut in the steep granite 
shore. There, I can aver that earth and ice were lost to 
sight by the numbers of sea-mammals covering them, and 
I involuntarily sought for old Proteus, the mythological 
shepherd who watched these immense flocks of Neptune. 
There were more seals than anything else, forming distinct 
groups, male and female, the father watching over his fam- 
ily, the mother suckling her little ones, some already strong 


236 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

enough to go a few steps. When they wished to change their 
place, they took little jumps, made by the contraction of 
their bodies, and helped awkwardly enough by their imper- 
fect fin, which, as with the lamantin, their cousins, forms a 
perfect forearm. I should say that, in the water, which is 
their element — ^the spine of these creatures is flexible; with 
smooth and close skin and webbed feet — ^they swim admir- 
ably. In resting on the earth they take the most graceful 
attitudes. Thus the ancients, observing their soft and ex- 
pressive looks, which cannot be surpassed by the most beau- 
tiful look a woman can give, their clear voluptuous eyes, 
their charming positions, and the poetry of their manners, 
metamorphosed them, the male into a triton and the female 
into a mermaid. I made Conseil notice the considerable de- 
velopment of the lobes of the brain in these interesting 
cetaceans. No mammal, except man, has such a quantity of 
brain matter; they are also capable of receiving a certain 
amount of education, are easily domesticated, and I think, 
with other naturalists, that if properly taught they would be 
of great service as fishing-dogs. The greater part of them 
slept on the rocks or on the sand. Amongst these seals, 
properly so called, which have no external ears (in which 
they differ from the otter, whose ears are prominent), I 
noticed several varieties of seals about three yards long, with 
a white coat, bulldog heads, armed with teeth in both jaws, 
four incisors at the top and four at the bottom, and two 
large canine teeth in the shape of a fleur-de-lis. Amongst 
them glided sea-elephants, a kind of seal, with short, flexible 
trunks. The giants of this species measured twenty feet 
round and ten yards and a half in length ; but they did not 
move as we approached. 

“These creatures are not dangerous asked Conseil. 

“No; not unless you attack them. When they have to 
defend their young their rage is terrible, and it is not un- 
common for them to break the fishing-boats to pieces.” 

“They are quite right,” said Conseil. 

“I do not say they are not.” 

Two miles farther on we were stopped by the promontory 
which shelters the bay from the southerly winds. Beyond it 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 237 

we heard loud bellowings such as a troop of ruminants 
would produce. 

“Good !” said Conseil ; “a concert of bulls !” 

“No; a concert of morses.” 

“They are fighting!” 

“They are either fighting or playing.” 

We now began to climb the blackish rocks, amid unfore- 
seen stumbles, and over stones which the ice made slippery. 
More than once I rolled over at the expense of my loins. 
Conseil, more prudent or more steady, did not stumble, and 
helped me up, saying: 

“If, sir, you would have the kindness to take wider steps, 
you would preserve your equilibrium better.” 

Arrived at the upper ridge of the promontory, I saw a 
vast white plain covered with morses. They were playing 
amongst themselves, and what we heard were bellqwings 
of pleasure, not of anger. 

As I passed these curious animals I could examine them 
leisurely, for they did not move. Their skins were thick and 
rugged, of a yellowish tint, approaching to red; their hair 
was short and scant. Some of them were four yards and a 
quarter long. Quieter and less timid than their cousins of 
the north, they did not, like them, place sentinels round the 
outskirts of their encampment. After examining this city 
of morses, I began to think of returning. It was eleven 
o’clock, and, if Captain Nemo found the conditions favour- 
able for observations, I wished to be present at the operation. 
We followed a narrow pathway running along the summit 
of the steep shore. At half-past eleven we had reached the 
place where we landed. The boat had run aground, bring- 
ing the Captain. I saw him standing on a block of basalt, 
his instruments near him, his eyes fixed on the northern 
horizon, near which the sun was then describing a length- 
ened curve. I took my place beside him, and waited without 
speaking. Noon arrived, and, as before, the sun did not 
appear. It was a fatality. Observations were still wanting. 
If not accomplished to-morrow, we must give up all idea 
of taking any. We were indeed exactly at the 20th of March. 
To-mcrrow, the 21st, would be the equinox; the sun would 


2S8 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

disappear behind the horizon for six months, and with its 
disappearance the long polar night would begin. Since the 
September equinox it had emerged from the northern hori- 
zon, rising by lengthened spirals up to the 21st of December. 
At this period, the summer solstice of the northern regions, 
it had begun to descend; and to-morrow was to shed its 
last rays upon them. I communicated my fears and observa- 
tions to Captain Nemo. 

“You are right, M. Aronnax,” said he; “if to-morrow 
I cannot take the altitude of the sun, I shall not be able to 
do it for six months. But precisely because chance has led 
me into these seas on the 21st of March, my bearings will 
be easy to take, if at twelve we can see the sun.” 

“Why, Captain.?” 

“Because then the orb of day described such lengthened 
curves that it is difficult to measure exactly its height above 
the horizon, and grave errors may be made with instru- 
ments.” 

“What will you do then.?” 

“I shall only use my chronometer,” replied Captain Nemo. 
“If to-morrow, the 21st of March, the disc of the sun, al- 
lowing for refraction, is exactly cut by the northern horizon, 
it will show that I am at the South Pole.” 

“Just so,” said I. “But this statement is not mathe- 
matically correct, because the equinox does not necessarily 
begin at noon.” 

“Very likely, sir; but the error will not be a hundred 
yards and we do not want more. Till to-morrow, then !” 

Captain Nemo returned on board. Conseil and I re- 
mained to survey the shore, observing and studying until 
five o’clock. Then I went to bed, not, however, without in- 
voking, like the Indian, the favour of the radiant orb. The 
next day, the 21st of March, at five in the morning, I 
mounted the platform. I found Captain Nemo there. 

“The weather is lightening a little,” said he. “I have 
some hope. After breakfast we will go on shore and choose 
a post for observation.” 

That point settled, I sought Ned Land. I wanted to take 
him with me. But the obstinate Canadian refused, and I 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 239 

saw that his taciturnity and his bad humour grew day by 
day. After all, I was not sorry for his obstinacy under the 
circumstances. Indeed, there were too many seals on shore, 
and we ought not to lay such temptation in this unreflecting 
fisherman’s way. Breakfast over, we went on shore. The 
Nautilus had gone some miles further up in the night. It was 
a whole league from the coast, above which reared a sharp 
peak about five hundred yards high. The boat took with 
me Captain Nemo, two men of the crew, and the instru- 
ments, which consisted of a chronometer, a telescope, and a 
barometer. While crossing, I saw numerous whales belonging 
to the three kinds peculiar to the southern seas; the whale, 
or the English ‘‘right whale,” which has no dorsal fin ; the 
“humpback,” with reeved chest and large, whitish fins, which, 
in spite of its name, do not form wings; and the fin-back, 
of a yellowish brown, the liveliest of all the cetacea. This 
powerful creature is heard a long way off when he throws 
to a great height columns of air and vapour, which look like 
whirlwinds of smoke. These different mammals were dis- 
porting themselves in troops in the quiet waters; and I 
could see that this basin of the Antarctic Pole serves as a 
place of refuge to the cetacea too closely tracked by the 
hunters. I also noticed large medusae floating between the 
reeds. 

At nine we landed; the sky was brightening, the clouds 
were flying to the south, and the fog seemed to be leaving 
the cold surface of the waters. Captain Nemo went towards 
the peak, which he doubtless meant to be his observatory. 
It was a painful ascent over the sharp lava and the pumice- 
stones, in an atmosphere often impregnated with a sulphur- 
ous smell from the smoking cracks. For a man unaccustomed 
to walk on land, the Captain climbed the steep slopes with 
an agility I never saw equalled and which a hunter would 
have envied. We were two hours getting to the summit of 
this peak, which was half porphyry and half basalt. From 
thence we looked upon a vast sea which, towards the north, 
distinctly traced its boundary line upon the sky. At our 
feet lay fields of dazzling whiteness. Over our heads a pale 
azure, free from fog. To the north the disc of the sun 


240 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

seemed like a ball of fire, already horned by the cutting of 
the horizon. From the bosom of the water rose sheaves of 
liquid jets by hundreds. In the distance lay the Nautilws 
like a cetacean asleep on the water. Behind us, to the 
south and east, an immense country and a chaotic heap of 
rocks and ice, the limits of which were not visible. On ar- 
riving at the summit Captain Nemo carefully took the mean 
height of the barometer, for he would have to consider that 
in taking his observations. At a quarter to twelve the sun, 
then seen only by refraction, looked like a golden disc 
shedding its last rays upon this deserted continent and seas 
which never man had yet ploughed. Captain Nemo, furnished 
with a lenticular glass which, by means of a mirror, cor- 
rected the refraction, watched the orb sinking below the 
horizon by degrees, following a lengthened diagonal. I held 
the chronometer. My heart beat fast. If the disappearance 
of the half-disc of the sun coincided with twelve o’clock on 
the chronometer, we were at the pole itself. 

‘‘Twelve!” I exclaimed. 

“The South Pole!” replied Captain Nemo, in a grave 
voice, handing me the glass, which showed the orb cut in 
exactly equal parts by the horizon. 

I looked at the last rays crowning the peak, and the 
shadows mounting by degrees up its slopes. At that moment 
Captain Nemo, resting with his hand on my shoulder, said: 

“I, Captain Nemo, on this 21st day of March, 1868, 
have reached the South Pole on the ninetieth degree ; and I 
take possession of this part of the globe, equal to one-sixth 
of the known continents.” 

“In whose name. Captain.'^” 

“In my own, sir!” 

Saying which. Captain Nemo unfurled a black banner, 
bearing an “N” in gold quartered on its bunting. Then, 
turning towards the orb of day, whose last rays lapped the 
horizon ol the sea, he exclaimed: 

“Adieu, sun! Disappear, thou radiant orb! rest beneath 
this open sea, and let a night of six months spread its 
shadows over my new domains !” 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 24)1 


CHAPTER XV 

ACCIDENT OR INCIDENT? 

T HE next day, the 22nd of March, at six in the morning, 
preparations for departure were begun. The last gleams of 
twilight were melting into night. The cold was great, the 
constellations shone with wonderful intensity. In the zenith 
glittered that wondrous Southern Cross — the polar bear of 
Antarctic regions. The thermometer showed 12° below zero, 
and when the wind freshened it was most biting. Flakes of 
ice increased on the open water. The sea seemed everywhere 
alike. Numerous blackish patches spread on the surface, 
showing the formation of fresh ice. Evidently the southern 
basin, frozen during the six winter months, was absolutely 
inaccessible. What became of the whales in that time ? Doubt- 
less they went beneath the icebergs, seeking more practicable 
seas. As to the seals and morses, accustomed to live in a 
hard climate, they remained on these icy shores. These crea- 
tures have the instinct to break holes in the ice-field and to 
keep them open. To these holes they come for breath ; when 
the birds, driven away by the cold, have emigrated to the 
north, these sea mammals remain sole masters of the polar 
continent. But the reservoirs were filling with w^ater, and the 
Nautilus was slowly descending. At 1,000 feet deep it 
stopped ; its screw beat the waves, and it advanced straight 
towards the north at a speed of fifteen miles an hour. 
Towards night it was already floating under the immense 
body of the iceberg. At three in the morning I was awakened 
by a violent shock. I sat up in my bed and listened in the 
darkness, wdien I was thrown into the middle of the room. 
The Nautilus, after having struck, had rebounded violently. 
1 groped along the partition, and by the staircase to the 
saloon, which w^as lit by the luminous ceiling. The furniture 
was upset. Fortunately the windows were firmly set, and 
had held fast. The pictures on the starboard side, from being 
no longer vertical, were clinging to the paper, whilst those 
of the port side were hanging at least a foot from the wall. 
The Nautilus was lying on its starboard side perfectly mo- 


24)2 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

tionless. I heard footsteps, and a confusion of voices; but 
Captain Nemo did not appear. As I was leaving the saloon, 
Ned Land and Conseil entered. 

‘‘What is the matter said I, at once. 

“I came to ask you, sir,” replied Conseil. 

“Confound it!” exclaimed the Canadian, “I know well 
enough! The Nautilus has struck; and, judging by the way 
she lies, I do not think she will right herself as she did the 
first time in Torres Straits.” 

“But,” I asked, “has she at least come to the surface of 
the sea.^^” 

“We do not know,” said Conseil. 

“It is easy to decide,” I answered. I consulted the manom- 
eter. To my great surprise, it showed a depth of more 
than 180 fathoms. “What does that mean.?” ! exclaimed. 

“We must ask Captain Nemo,” said Conseil. 

“But where shall we find him.?” said Ned Land. 

“Follow me,” said I, to my companions. 

We left the saloon. There was no one in the library. At 
the centre staircase, by the berths of the ship’s crew, there 
was no one. I thought that Captain Nemo must be in the 
pilot’s cage. It was best to wait. We all returned to the 
saloon. For twenty minutes we remained thus, trying to 
hear the slightest noise which might be made on board the 
Nautilus^ when Captain Nemo entered. He seemed not to 
see us; his face, generally so impassive, showed signs of 
uneasiness. He watched the compass silently, then the 
manometer ; and, going to the planisphere, placed his finger 
on a spot representing the southern seas. I would not inter- 
rupt him; but, seme minutes later, when he turned towards 
me, I said, using one of his own expressions in the Torres 
Straits : 

“An incident. Captain.?” 

“No, sir; an accident this time.” 

“Serious.?” 

“Perhaps.” 

“Is the danger immediate.?” 

“No.” 

“The Nautilus has stranded?” 


TWENTY THOCSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 24!S 

‘‘Yes.” 

“And this has happened — ^how.?” 

“From a caprice of nature, not from the ignorance of 
man. Not a mistake has been made in the working. But we 
cannot prevent equilibrium from producing its effects. We 
may brave human laws, but we cannot resist natural ones.” 

Captain Nemo had chosen a strange moment for uttering 
this philosophical reflection. On the whole, his answer 
helped me little. 

“May I ask, sir, the cause of this accident?” 

“An enormous block of ice, a whole mountain, has turned 
over,” he replied. “When icebergs are undermined at their 
base by warmer water or reiterated shocks their centre of 
gravity rises, and the whole thing turns over. This is what 
has happened; one of these blocks, as it fell, struck the 
Nautilus, then, gliding under its hull, raised it with irresist- 
ible force, bringing it into beds which are not so thick, 
where it is lying on its side.” 

“But can we not get the Nautilus off by emptying its 
reservoirs, that it might regain its equilibrium?” 

“That, sir, is being done at this moment. You can hear 
the pump working. Look at the needle of the manometer; 
it shows that the Nautilus is rising, but the block of ice is 
floating with it ; and, until some obstacle stops its ascending 
motion, our position cannot be altered.” 

Indeed, the Nautilus still held the same position to star- 
board ; doubtless it would right itself when the block 
stopped. But at this moment who knows if we may not be 
frightfully crushed between the two glassy surfaces? I re- 
flected on all the consequences of our position. Captain 
Nemo never took his eyes off the manometer. Since the fall 
of the iceberg, the Nautilus had risen about p hundred and 
fifty feet, but it still made the same angle with the perpen- 
dicular. Suddenly a slight movement was felt in the hold. 
Evidently it was righting a little. Things hanging in the 
saloon were sensibly returning to their normal position. 
The partitions were nearing the upright. No one spoke. 
With beating hearts we watched and felt the straightening. 


244 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

The boards became horizontal under our feet. Ten minutes 
passed. 

“At last we have righted !” I exclaimed. 

“Yes,” said Captain Nemo, going to the door of the 
saloon. 

“But are we floating.^” I asked. 

“Certainly,” he replied; “since the reservoirs are not 
empty; and, when empty, the Nautilus must rise to the 
surface of the sea.” 

We were in open sea; but at a distance of about ten 
yards, on either side of the Nautilus, rose a dazzling wall of 
ice. Above and beneath the same wall. Above, because 
the lower surface of the iceberg stretched over us like an 
immense ceiling. Beneath, because the overturned block, 
having slid by degrees, had found a resting-place on the 
lateral walls, which kept it in that position. The Nautilus 
was really imprisoned in a perfect tunnel of ice more than 
twenty yards in breadth, filled with quiet water. It was 
easy to get out of it by going either forward or backward, 
and then make a free passage under the iceberg, some 
hundreds of yards deeper. The luminous ceiling had been 
extinguished, but the saloon was still resplendent with in- 
tense light. It was the powerful reflection from the glass 
partition sent violently back to the sheets of the lantern. 
I cannot describe the effect of the voltaic rays upon the 
great blocks so capriciously cut; upon every angle, every 
ridge, every facet was thrown a different light, according 
to the nature of the veins running through the ice; a daz- 
zling mine of gems, particularly of sapphires, their blue 
rays crossing with the green of the emerald. Here and there 
were opal shades of wonderful softness, running through 
bright spots like diamonds of fire, the brilliancy of which 
the eye could not bear. The power of the lantern seemed 
increased a hundredfold, like a lamp through the lenticular 
plates of a first-class lighthouse. 

“How beautiful! how beautiful!” cried Conseil. 

“Yes,” I said, “it is a wonderful sight. Is it not, Ned.?” 

“Yes, confound it! Yes,” answered Ned Land, “it is 
superb! I am mad at being obliged to admit it. No one 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 245 

has ever seen anything like it; but the sight may cost us 
dear. And, if I must say all, I think we are seeing here 
things which God never intended man to see.” 

Ned was right, it was too beautiful. Suddenly a cry from 
Conseil made me turn. 

‘‘What is it.?” I asked. 

“Shut your eyes, sir! Do not look, sir!” Saying which, 
Conseil clapped his hands over his eyes. 

“But what is the matter, my boy.?” 

“I am dazzled, blinded.” 

My eyes turned involuntarily towards the glass, but 
I could not stand the fire which seemed to devour them. I 
understood what had happened. The Nautilus had put on 
full speed. All the quiet lustre of the ice-walls was at once 
changed into flashes of lightning. The fire from these 
myriads of diamonds was blinding. It required some time to 
calm our troubled looks. At last the hands were taken down. 

“Faith, I should never have believed it,” said Conseil. 

It was then five in the morning; and at that moment a 
shock was felt at the bows of the Nautilus. I knew that its 
spur had struck a block of ice. It must have been a false 
manoeuvre, for this submarine tunnel, obstructed by blocks, 
was not very easy navigation. I thought that Captain Nemo, 
by changing his course, would either turn these obstacles 
or else follow the windings of the tunnel. In any case, the 
road before us could not be entirely blocked. But, contrary 
to my expectations, the Nautilus took a decided retrograde 
motion. 

“We are going backwards.?” said Conseil. 

“Yes,” I replied. “This end of the tunnel can have no 
egress.” 

“And then.?” 

“Then,” said I, “the working is easy. We must go back 
again, and go out at the southern opening. That is all.” 

In speaking thus, I wished to appear more confident than 
I really w^as. But the retrograde motion of the Nautilus was 
increasing; and, reversing the screw, it carried us at great 
speed. 


24)6 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

‘‘It will be a hindrance,” said Ned. 

“What does it matter, some hours more or less, provided 
we get out at last?” 

“Yes,” repeated Ned Land, “provided we do get out at 
last!” 

For a short time I walked from the saloon to the library. 
My companions were silent. I soon threw myself on an otto- 
man, and took a book, which my eyes overran mechanically. 
A quarter of an hour after, Conseil, approaching me, said, 
“Is what you are reading very interesting, sir?” 

“Very interesting I” I replied. 

“I should think so, sir. It is your own book you are 
reading.” 

“My book?” 

And indeed I was holding in my hand the work on the 
Great Submarine Depths. I did not even dream of it. I 
closed the book and returned to my walk. Ned and Conseil 
rose to go. 

“Stay here, my friends,” said I, detaining them. “Let 
us remain together until we are out of this block.” 

“As you please, sir,” Conseil replied. 

Some hours passed. I often looked at the instruments 
hanging from the partition. The manometer showed that 
the Nautilus kept at a constant depth of more than three 
hundred yards; the compass still pointed to south; the log 
indicated a speed of twenty miles an hour, which, in such a 
cramped space, was very great. But Captain Nemo knew 
that he could not hasten too much, and that minutes were 
worth ages to us. At twenty-five minutes past eight a second 
shock took place, this time from behind. I turned pale. My 
companions were close by my side. I seized ConseiPs hand. 
Our looks expressed our feelings better than words. At this 
moment the Captain entered the saloon. I went up to him. 

“Our course is barred southward?” I asked. 

“Yes, sir. The iceberg has shifted and closed every 
outlet.” 

“We are blocked up then?” 

“Yes.” 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 247 


CHAPTER XVI 

WANT OF AIR 

T' 

1 HUS around the Nautilus, above and below, was an im- 
penetrable wall of ice. We were prisoners to the iceberg. 
I watched the Captain. His countenance had resumed its 
habitual imperturbability. 

“Gentlemen,” he said calmly, “there are two ways of 
dying in the circumstances in which we are placed.” (This 
puzzling person had the air of a mathematical professor 
lecturing to his pupils.) “The first is to be crushed; the 
second is to die of suffocation. I do not speak of the possi- 
bility of dying of hunger, for the supply of provisions in 
the Nautilus will certainly last longer than we shall. Let us, 
then, calculate our chances.” 

“As to suffocation. Captain,” I replied, “that is not to be 
feared, because our reservoirs are full.” 

“Just so; but they will only yield two days’ supply of 
air. Now, for thirty-six hours we have been hidden under 
the water, and already the heavy atmosphere of the Nautilus 
requires renewal. In forty-eight hours our reserve will be 
exhausted.” 

“Well, Captain, can we be delivered before forty-eight 
hours .?” 

“We will attempt it, at least, by piercing the wall that 
» surrounds us.” 

“On which side.?” 

“Sound will tell us. I am going to run the Nautilus 
aground on the lower bank, and my men will attack the 
iceberg on the side that is least thick.” 

Captain Nemo went out. Soon I discovered by a hissing 
noise that the water was entering the reservoirs. The 
Nautilus sank slowly, and rested on the ice at a depth of 350 
yards, the depth at which the lower bank was immersed. 

“My friends,” I said, “our situation is serious, but I 
rely on your courage and energy.” 

“Sir,” replied the Canadian, “I am ready to do anything 
for the general safety.” 


248 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

“Good! Ned,” and I held out my hand to the Canadian. 

“I will add,” he continued, “that, being as handy with 
the pickaxe as with the harpoon, if I can be useful to the 
Captain, he can command my services.” 

“He will not refuse your help. Come, Ned!” 

I led him to the room where the crew of the Nautilus 
were putting on their cork- jackets. I told the Captain of 
Ned’s proposal, which he accepted. The Canadian put on 
his sea-costume, and was ready as soon as his companions. 
When Ned was dressed, I re-entered the dra^ang-room, 
where the panes of glass were open, and, posted near Conseil, 
I examined the ambient beds that supported the Nautilus. 
Some instants after, we saw a dozen of the crew set foot on 
the bank of ice, and among them Ned Land, easily known 
by his stature. Captain Nemo was with them. Before pro- 
ceeding to dig the walls, he took the soundings, to be sure 
of working in the right direction. Long sounding lines were 
sunk in the side walls, but after fifteen yards they were 
again stopped by the thick wall. It was useless to attack it 
on the ceiling-like surface, since the iceberg itself measured 
more than 400 yards in height. Captain Nemo then sounded 
the lower surface. There ten yards of wall separated us 
from the water, so great was the thickness of the ice-field. 
It was necessary, therefore, to cut from it a piece equal in 
extent to the waterline of the Nautilus. There were about 
6,000 cubic yards to detach, so as to dig a hole by which we 
could descend to the ice-field. The work had begun immedi- 
ately and carried on with indefatigable energy. Instead of 
digging round the Nautilus which would have involved 
greater difficulty. Captain Nemo had an immense trench 
made at eight yards from the port-quarter. Then the men 
set to work simultaneously with their screws on several 
points of its circumference. Presently the pickaxe attacked 
this compact matter vigorously, and large blocks were de- 
tached from the mass. By a curious effect of specific gravity, 
these blocks, lighter than water, fled, so to speak, to the 
vault of the tunnel, that increased in thickness at the top in 
proportion as it diminished at the base. But that mattered 
little, so long as the lower part grew thinner. After two 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 249 

hours’ hard work, Ned Land came in exhausted. He and 
his comrades were replaced by new workers, whom Conseil 
and I joined. The second lieutenant of the Nautilus super- 
intended us. The water seemed singularly cold, but I soon 
got warm handling the pickaxe. My movements were free 
enough, although they were made under a pressure of thirty 
atmospheres. When I re-entered, after working two hours, 
to take some food and rest, I found a perceptible difference 
between the pure fluid with which the Rouquayrol engine 
supplied me and the atmosphere of the Nautilus, already 
charged with carbonic acid. The air had not been renewed 
for forty-eight hours, and its vivifying qualities were con- 
siderably enfeebled. However, after a lapse of twelve hours, 
we had only raised a block of ice one yard thick, on the 
marked surface, which was about 600 cubic yards ! Reckon- 
ing that it took twelve hours to accomplish this much it 
would take five nights and four days to bring this enter- 
prise to a satisfactory conclusion. Five nights and four 
days ! And we have only air enough for two days in the 
reservoirs! “Without taking into account,” said Ned, “that, 
even if we get out of this infernal prison, we shall also be 
imprisoned under the iceberg, shut out from all possible 
communication with the atmosphere.” True enough! Who 
could then foresee the minimum of time necessary for our 
deliverance.? We might be suffocated before the Nautilus 
could regain the surface of the waves.? Was it destined to 
perish in this ice-tomb, with all those it enclosed.? The situa- 
tion was terrible. But everyone had looked the danger in the 
face, and each w^as determined to do his duty to the last. 

As I expected, during the night a new block a yard 
square was carried away, and still further sank the immense 
hollow. But in the morning when, dressed in my cork- jacket, 
I traversed the slushy mass at a temperature of six or seven 
degrees below zero, I remarked that the side walls were 
gradually closing in. The beds of water farthest from the 
trench, that w^ere not warmed b}^ the men’s work, showed a 
tendency to solidification. In presence of this new and immi- 
nent danger, what would become of our chances of safety, 


250 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

and how hinder the solidification of this liquid medium, that 
would burst the partitions of the Nautilus like glass? 

I did not tell my companions of this new danger. What 
was the good of damping the energy they displayed in the 
painful work of escape? But when I went on board again, | 
I told Captain Nemo of this grave complication. j 

“I know it,” he said, in that calm tone which could j 
counteract the most terrible apprehensions. ‘‘It is one ' 
danger more; but I see no way of escaping it; the only 
chance of safety is to go quicker than solidification. We 
must be beforehand with it, that is all.” j 

On this day for several hours I used my pickaxe vigor- [ 
ously. The work kept me up. Besides, to work was to quit 
the Nautilus, and breathe directly the pure air drawn from 
the reservoirs, and supplied by our apparatus, and to quit 
the impoverished and vitiated atmosphere. Towards evening 
the trench was dug one yard deeper. When I returned on 
board, I was nearly suffocated by the carbonic acid with 
which the air was filled — ah! if we had only the chemical 
means to drive away this deleterious gas. We had plenty 
of oxygen ; all this water contained a considerable quantity, 
and by dissolving it with our powerful piles, it would restore 
the vivifying fluid. I had thought well over it; but of what 
good was that, since the carbonic acid produced by our 
respiration had invaded every part of the vessel? To ab- 
sorb it, it was necessary to fill some jars with caustic potash, 
and to shake them incessantly. Now this substance was 
wanting on board, and nothing could replace it. On that 
evening. Captain Nemo ought to open the taps of his reser- 
voirs, and let some pure air into the interior of the Nautilus ; 
without this precaution we could not get rid of the sense of 
suffocation. The next day, March 26th, I resumed my 
miner’s work in beginning the fifth yard. The side walls and 
the lower surface of the iceberg thickened visibly. It was 
evident that they would meet before the Nautilus was able 
to disengage itself. Despair seized me for an instant; my 
pickaxe nearly fell from my hands. What was the good of 
digging if I must be suffocated, crushed by the water that 
was turning into stone.? — a punishment that the ferocity of 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 251 

the savages even would not have invented! Just then Cap- 
tain Nemo passed near me. I touched his hand and showed 
him the walls of our prison. The wall to port had advanced 
to at least four yards from the hull of the Nautilus. The 
Captain understood me, and signed me to follow him. We 
went oti board. I took off my cork- jacket and accompanied 
him into the drawing-room. 

“M. Aronnax, we must attempt some desperate means, 
or we shall be sealed up in this solidified water as in cement.” 

“Yes; but what is to be done.?” 

“Ah! if' my Nautilus were strong enough to bear this 
pressure without being crushed !” 

“Well.?” I asked, not catching the Captain’s idea. 

“Do you not understand,” he replied, “that this con- 
gelation of water wdll help us.? Do you not see that by its 
solidification, it would burst through this field of ice that 
imprisons us, as, when it freezes, it bursts the hardest stones .? 
Do you not perceive that it would be an agent of safety in- 
stead of destruction.?” 

“Yes, Captain, perhaps. But, whatever resistance to 
crushing the Nautilus possesses, it could not support this 
terrible pressure, and would be flattened like an iron plate.” 

“I know it, sir. Therefore we must not reckon on the aid 
of nature, but on our own exertions. We must stop this 
solidification. Not only will the side walls be pressed to- 
gether; but there is not ten feet of water before or behind 
the Nautilus. The congelation gains on us on all sides.” 

“How long will the air in the reservoirs last for us to 
breathe on board.?” 

The Captain looked in my face. “After to-morrow they 
will be empty!” 

A cold sweat came over me. However, ought I to have 
been astonished at the answer.? On March 22, the Nautilus 
was in the open polar seas. We were at 26°. For five days 
we had lived on the reserve on board. And what was left 
of the respirable air must be kept for the workers. Even 
now, as I write, my recollection is still so vivid that an in- 
voluntary terror seizes me and my lungs seem to be without 
air. Meanwhile, Captain Nemo reflected silently, and evi- 


252 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

dently an idea had struck him; but he seemed to reject it. 
At last, these words escaped his lips : 

‘‘Boiling water!” he muttered. 

“Boiling water?” I cried. 

“Yes, sir. We are enclosed in a space that is relatively 
confined. Would not jets of boiling water, constantly in- 
jected by the pumps, raise the temperature in this part 
and stay the congelation ?” 

“Let us try it,” I said resolutely. 

“Let us try it. Professor.” 

The thermometer then stood at 7° outside. Captain Nemo 
took me to the galleys, where the vast distillatory machines 
stood that furnished the drinkable water by evaporation. 
They filled these with water, and all the electric heat from 
the piles was thrown through the worms bathed in the liquid. 
In a few minutes this water reached 100°. It was directed 
towards the pumps, while fresh water replaced it in propor- 
tion. The heat developed by the troughs was such that cold 
water, drawn up from the sea after only having gone 
through the machines, came boiling into the body of the 
pump. The injection was begun, and three hours after the 
thermometer marked 6° below zero outside. One degree was 
gained. Two hours later the thermometer only marked 4°. 

“We shall succeed,” I said to the Captain, after having 
anxiously watched the result of the operation. 

“I think,” he answered, “that we shall not be crushed. 
We have no more suffocation to fear.” 

During the night the temperature of the water rose to 
1° below zero. The injections could not carry it to a higher 
point. But, as the congelation of the sea-water produces at 
least 2°, I was at least reassured against the dangers of 
solidification. 

The next day, March 27th, six yards of ice had been 
cleared, twelve feet only remaining to be cleared away. 
There was yet forty-eight hours’ work. The air could not 
be renewed in the interior of the Nautilus. And this day 
would make it worse. An intolerable weight oppressed me. 
Towards three o’clock in the evening this feeling rose to a 
violent degree. Yawns dislocated my jaws. My lungs panted 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 253 

as they inhaled this burning fluid, which became rarefied 
more and more. A moral torpor took hold of me. I was 
powerless, almost unconscious. My brave Conseil, though 
exhibiting the same symptoms and suffering in the same 
manner, never left me. He took my hand and encouraged 
me, and I heard him murmur, “Oh! if I could only not 
breathe, so as to leave more air for my master!” 

Tears came into my eyes on hearing him speak thus. 
If our situation to all was intolerable in the interior, with 
what haste and gladness would we put on our cork- jackets 
to work in our turn! Pickaxes sounded on the frozen ice- 
beds. Our arms ached, the skin was torn off our hands. 
But what were these fatigues, what did the wounds matter 
Vital air came to the lungs! We breathed! we breathed! 

All this time no one prolonged his voluntary task beyond 
the prescribed time. His task accomplished, each one 
handed in turn to his panting companions the apparatus 
that supplied him with life. Captain Nemo set the example, 
and submitted first to this severe discipline. When the time 
came, he gave up his apparatus to another and returned to 
the vitiated air on board, calm, unflinching, unmurmuring. 

On that day the ordinary work was accomplished ’ wuth 
unusual vigour. Only two yards remained to be raised 
from the surface. Two yards only separated us from the 
open sea. But the reservoirs were nearly emptied of air. 
The little that remained ought to be kept for the workers; 
not a particle for the Nautilus, When I went back on board, 
I was half suffocated. What a night ! I know not how to 
describe it. The next day my breathing was oppressed. 
Dizziness accompanied the pain in my head and made me 
like a drunken man. My companions showed the same symp- 
toms. Some of the crew had rattling in the throat. 

On that day, the sixth of our imprisonment. Captain 
Nemo, finding the pickaxes work too slowly, resolved to 
crush the ice-bed that still separated us from the liquid 
sheet. This man’s coolness and energy never forsook him. 
He subdued his physical pains by moral force. 

By his orders the vessel was lightened, that is to say, 
raised from the ice-bed by a change of specific gravity. 


S54 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

When it floated they towed it so as to bring it above the 
immense trench made on the level of the water-line. Then, 
filling his reservoirs of water, he descended and shut himself 
up in the hole. 

Just then all the crew came on board, and the double 
door of communication was shut. The Nautilus then rested 
on the bed of ice, which was not one yard thick, and which 
the sounding leads had perforated in a thousand places. 
The taps of the reservoirs were then opened, and a hundred 
cubic yards of water was let in, increasing the weight of the 
Nautilus to 1,800 tons. We waited, we listened, forgetting 
our sufferings in hope. Our safety depended on this last 
chance. Notwithstanding the buzzing in my head, I soon 
heard the humming sound under the hull of the Nautilus. 
The ice cracked with a singular noise, like tearing paper, 
and the Nautilus sank. 

“We are off!” murmured Conseil in my ear. 

I could not answer him. I seized his hand, and pressed 
it convulsively. All at once, carried away by its frightful 
overcharge, the Nautilus sank like a bullet under the waters, 
that is to say, it fell as if it was in a vacuum. Then all the 
electric force was put on the pumps, that soon began to let 
the water out of the reservoirs. After some minutes, our fall 
was stopped. Soon, too, the manometer indicated an ascend- 
ing movement. The screw, going at full speed, made the 
iron hull tremble to its very bolts and drew us towards the 
north. But if this floating under the iceberg is to last an- 
other day before we reach the open sea, I shall be dead first. 

Half stretched upon a divan in the library, I was suffo- 
cating. My face was purple, my lips blue, my faculties sus- 
pended. I neither saw nor heard. All notion of time had 
gone from my mind. My muscles could not contract. I do 
not know how many hours passed thus, but I was conscious 
of the agony that was coming over me. I felt as if I was 
going to die. Suddenly I came to. Some breaths of air pene- 
trated my lungs. Had we risen to the surface of the waves 
Were we free of the iceberg.? No! Ned and Conseil, my two 
brave friends, were sacrificing themselves to save me. Some 
particles of air still remained at the bottom of one apparatus. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 255 

Instead of using it, they had kept it for me, and, while they 
were being suffocated, they gave me life, drop by drop. I 
wanted to push back the thing ; they held my hands, and for 
some moments I breathed freely. I looked at the clock; it 
was eleven in the morning. It ought to be the 28th of March. 
The Nautilus went at a frightful pace, forty miles an hour. 
It literally tore through the water. Where was Captain 
Nemo.f^ Had he succumbed.? Were his companions dead with 
him.? At the moment the manometer indicated that we were 
not more than twenty feet from the surface. A mere plate 
of ice separated us from the atmosphere. Could we not 
break it.? Perhaps. In any case the Nautilus was going to 
attempt it. I felt that it was in an oblique position, lowering 
the stern, and raising the bows. The introduction of water 
had been the means of disturbing its equilibrium. Then, im- 
pelled by its powerful screw, it attacked the ice-field from 
beneath like a formidable battering-ram. It broke it by 
backing and then rushing forward against the field, which 
gradually gave way; and at last, dashing suddenly against 
it, shot forwards on the ice-field, that crushed beneath its 
weight. The panel was opened — one might say torn off — 
and the pure air came in in abundance to all parts of the 
Nautilus. 


CHAPTER XVII 

FROM CAPE HORN TO THE AMAZON 

H ow I got on to the platform, I have no idea; perhaps 
the Canadian had carried me there. But I breathed, I in- 
haled the vivifying sea-air. My two companions were get- 
ting drunk with the fresh particles. The other unhappy 
men had been so long without food, that they could not 
with impunity indulge in the simplest aliments that were 
given them. We, on the contrary, had no end to restrain 
ourselves ; we could draw this air freely into our lungs, and 
it was the breeze, the breeze alone, that filled us with this 
keen enjoyment. 


256 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

‘‘Ah!” said Conseil, “how delightful this oxygen is! 
Master need not fear to breathe it. There is enough for 
everybody.” 

Ned Land did not speak, but he opened his jaws wide 
enough to frighten a shark. Our strength soon returned, 
and, when I looked round me, I saw we were alone on the 
platform. The foreign seamen in the Nautilus were con- 
tented with the air that circulated in the interior; none of 
them had come to drink in the open air. 

The first words I spoke were words of gratitude and 
thankfulness to my two companions. Ned and Conseil had 
prolonged my life during the last hours of this long agony. 
All my gratitude could not repay such devotion. 

“My friends,” said I, “we are bound one to the other for 
ever, and I am under infinite obligations to you.” 

“Which I shall take advantage of,” exclaimed the 
Canadian. 

“What do you mean.?” said Conseil. 

“I mean that I shall take you with me when I leave this 
infernal Nautilus.^’* 

“Well,” said Conseil, “after all. this, are we going 
right.?” 

“Yes,” I replied, “for we are going the way of the sun, 
and here the sun is in the north.” 

“No doubt,” said Ned Land; “but it remains to be seen 
whether he will bring the ship into the Pacific or the At- 
lantic Ocean, that is, into frequented or deserted seas.” 

I could not answer that question, and I feared that Cap- 
tain Nemo would rather take us to the vast ocean that 
touches the coasts of Asia and America at the same time. 
He would thus complete the tour round the submarine 
world, and return to those waters in which the Nautilus 
could sail freely. We ought, before long, to settle this im- 
portant point. The Nautilus went at a rapid pace. The 
polar circle was soon passed, and the course shaped for 
Cape Horn. We were off the American point, March 31st, 
at seven o’clock in the evening. Then all our past sufferings 
were forgotten. The remembrance of that imprisonment in 
the ice was effaced from our minds. We only thought of the 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 257 

future. Captain Nemo did not appear again either in the 
drawing-room or on the platform. The point shown each 
day on the planisphere, and, marked by the lieutenant, 
showed me the exact direction of the Nautilus, Now, on that 
evening, it was evident, to my great satisfaction, that we 
were going back to the North by the Atlantic. The next 
day, April 1st, wdien the Nautilus ascended to the surface 
some minutes before noon, we sighted land to the west. It 
was Terra del Fuego, which the first navigators named thus 
from seeing the quantity of smoke that rose from the na- 
tives’ huts. The coast seemed low to me, but in the distance 
rose high mountains. I even thought I had a glimpse of 
Mount Sarmiento, that rises 2,070 yards above the level 
of the sea, with a very pointed summit, ’which, according as 
it is misty or clear, is a sign of fine or of wet weather. At 
this moment the peak was clearly defined against the sky. 
The Nautilus, diving again under the water, approached the 
coast, which ’was only some few miles off. From the glass 
windows in the drawing-room, I saw long seaweeds and 
gigantic fuci and varech, of which the open polar sea con- 
tains so many specimens, with their sharp polished fila- 
ments; they measured about 300 yards in length — real 
cables, thicker than one’s thumb ; and, having great tenacity, 
they are often used as ropes for vessels. Another weed known 
as velp, with leaves four feet long, buried in the coral con- 
cretions, hung at the bottom. It served as nest and food for 
myriads of Crustacea and molluscs, crabs, and cuttlefish. 
There seals and otters had splendid repasts, eating the flesh 
of fish with sea- vegetables, according to the English fashion. 
Over this fertile and luxuriant ground the Nautilus passed 
with great rapidity. Towards evening it approached the 
Falkland group, the rough summits of which I recognised 
the following day. The depth of the sea was moderate. On 
the shores our nets brought in beautiful specimens of sea- 
weed, and particularly a certain fucus, the roots of which 
were filled with the best mussels in the world. Geese and 
ducks fell by dozens on the platform, and soon took their 
places in the pantry on board. 


258 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

When the last heights of the Falklands had disappeared 
from the horizon, the Nautilus sank to between twenty and 
twenty-five yards, and followed the American coast. Captain 
Nemo did not show himself. Until the 3rd of April we did 
not quit the shores of Patagonia, sometimes under the 
ocean, sometimes at the surface. The Nautilus passed beyond 
the large estuary formed by the Uraguay. Its direction was 
northwards, and followed the long windings of the coast of 
South America. We had then made 1,600 miles since our 
embarkation in the seas of Japan. About eleven o’clock in 
the morning the Tropic of Capricorn was crossed on the 
thirty-seventh meridian, and we passed Cape Frio standing 
out to sea. Captain Nemo, to Ned Land’s great displeasure, 
did not like the neighbourhood of the inhabited coasts of 
Brazil, for we went at a giddy speed. Not a fish, not a bird 
of the swiftiest kind could follow us, and the natural curiosi- 
ties of these seas escaped all observation. 

This speed was kept up for several days, and in the eve- 
ning of the 9th of April we sighted the most westerly point 
of South America that forms Cape San Roque. But then, 
the Nautilus swerved again, and sought the lowest depth of 
a submarine valley which is between this Cape and Sierra 
Leone on the African coast. This valley bifurcates to the 
parallel of the Antilles, and terminates at the mouth by 
the enormous depression of 9,000 yards. In this place, the 
geological basin of the ocean forms, as far as the Lesser 
Antilles, a cliff to three and a half miles perpendicular in 
height, and, at the parallel of the Cape Verde Islands, an- 
other wall not less considerable, that encloses thus all the 
sunk continent of the Atlantic. The bottom of this immense 
valley is dotted with some mountains, that give to these 
submarine places a picturesque aspect. I speak, moreover, 
from the manuscript charts that were in the library of the 
Nautilus — charts evidently due to Captain Nemo’s hand, 
and made after his personal observations. For two days the 
desert and deep waters were visited by means of the inclined 
planes. The Nautilus was furnished with long diagonal 
broadsides which carried it to all elevations. But on the 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 259 

11th of April it rose suddenly, and land appeared at the 
mouth of the Amazon River, a vast estuary, the embouchure 
of which is so considerable that it freshens the sea-water for 
the distance of several leagues. 


CHAPTER XVIII 

THE POULPS 

F OR several days the Nautilus kept off from the American 
coast. Evidently it did not wish to risk the tides of the Gulf 
of Mexico or of the sea of the Antilles. April 16th, we 
sighted Martinique and Guadaloupe from a distance of 
about thirty miles. I saw their tall peaks for an instant. 
The Canadian, who counted on carrying out his projects in 
the Gulf, by either landing or hailing one of the numerous 
boats that coast from one island to another, was quite dis- 
heartened. Flight would have been quite practicable, if Ned 
Land had been able to take possession of the boat without 
the Captain’s knowledge. But in the open sea it could not be 
thought of. The Canadian, Conseil, and I had a long con- 
versation on this subject. For six months we had been 
prisoners on board the Nautilus, We had travelled 17,000 
leagues ; and, as Ned Land said, there was no reason why 
it should come to an end. We could hope nothing from the 
Captain of the Nautilus, but only from ourselves. Besides, 
for some time past he had become graver, more retired, 
less sociable. He seemed to shun me. I met him rarely. 
Formerly he was pleased to explain the submarine marvels 
to me; now he left me to my studies, and came no more to 
the saloon. What change had come over him.^^ For what 
cause.? For my part, I did not wish to bury with me my 
curious and novel studies. I had now the power to write 
the true book of the sea; and this book, sooner or later, I 
wished to see daylight. The land nearest us was the archi- 
pelago of the Bahamas. There rose high submarine cliffs 
covered with large weeds. It was about eleven o’clock when 
Ned Land drew my attention to a formidable pricking, 


260 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

like the sting of an ant, which was produced by means of 
large seaweeds. 

“Well,” I said, “these are proper caverns for poulps, 
and I should not be astonished to see some of these monsters.” 

“What!” said Conseil; “cuttle-fish, real cuttle-fish of the 
cephalopod class .^” 

“No,” I said, “poulps of huge dimensions.” 

“I will never believe that such animals exist,” said Ned. 

“Well,” said Conseil, with the most serious air in the 
world, “I remember perfectly to have seen a large vessel 
drawn under the waves by an octopus’s arm.” 

“You saw that.f^” said the Canadian. 

“Yes, Ned.” 

“With your own eyes.^” 

“With my own eyes.” 

“Where, pray, might that be.^” 

“At St. Malo,” answered Conseil. 

“In the port.?” said Ned, ironically. 

“No; in a church,” replied Conseil. 

“In a church I” cried the Canadian. 

“Yes ; friend Ned. In a picture representing the poulp 
in question.” 

“Good!” said Ned Land, bursting out laughing. 

“He is quite right,” I said. “I have heard of this picture ; 
but the subject represented is taken fTom a legend, and 
you know what to think of legends in the matter of natural 
history. Besides, when it is a question of monsters, the 
imagination is apt to run wild. Not only is it supposed that 
these poulps can draw down vessels, but a certain Olaiis 
Magnus speaks of an octopus a mile long that is more like 
an island than an animal. It is also said that the Bishop of 
Nidros was building an altar on an immense rock. Mass 
finished, the rock began to walk, and returned to the sea. 
The rock was a poulp. Another Bishop, Pontoppidan, 
speaks also of a poulp on which a regiment of cavalry could 
manoeuvre. Lastly, the ancient naturalists speak of monsters 
whose mouths were like gulfs, and which were too large to 
pass through the Straits of Gibraltar.” 

“But how much is true of these stories.?” asked Conseil. 


x^WENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 261 

“Nothing, my friends; at least of that which passes the 
limit of truth to get to fable or legend. Nevertheless, there 
must be some ground for the imagination of the story-tellers. 
One cannot deny that poulps and cuttle-fish exist of a 
large species, inferior, however, to the cetaceans. Aristotle 
has stated the dimensions of a cuttle-fish as five cubits, or 
nine feet two inches. Our fishermen frequently see some that 
are more than four feet long. Some skeletons of poulps are 
preserved in the museums of Trieste and Montpelier, that 
measure two yards in length. Besides, according to the calcu- 
lations of some naturalists, one of these animals only six 
feet long would have tentacles twenty-seven feet long. That 
would suffice to make a formidable monster.” 

“Do they fish for them in these days.?^” asked Ned. 

“If they do not fish for them, sailors see them at least. 
One of my friends. Captain Paul Bos of Havre, has often 
affirmed that he met one of these monsters of colossal di- 
mensions in the Indian seas. But the most astonishing fact,, 
and which does not permit of the denial of the existence of 
these gigantic animals, happened some years ago, in 1861.”’ 

“What is the fact.^^” asked Ned Land. 

“This is it. In 1861, to the north-east of Teneriffe, very 
nearly in the same latitude we are in now, the crew of the 
despatch-boat Alector perceived a monstrous cuttle-fish 
swimming in the waters. Captain Bouguer went near to the 
animal, and attacked it with harpoon and guns, without 
much success, for balls and harpoons glided over the soft 
flesh. After several fruitless attempts the crew tried to pass 
a slip-knot round the body of the mollusc. The noose 
slipped as far as the tail fins and there stopped. They tried 
then to haul it on board, but its weight was so considerable 
that the tightness of the cord separated the tail from the 
body, and, deprived of this ornament, he disappeared under 
the water.” 

“Indeed! is that a fact.?” 

“An indisputable fact, my good Ned. They proposed to 
name this poulp ‘Bouguer’s cuttle-fish.’ ” 

“What length was it.?” asked the Canadian. 

“Did it not measure about six yards.?” said Conseil, who„ 


^62 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

posted at the window, was examining again the irregular 
windings of the cliff. 

“Precisely,” I replied. 

“Its head,” rejoined Conseil, “was it not crowned with 
eight tentacles, that beat the water like a nest of serpents.?” 

“Precisely.” 

“Had not its eyes, placed at the back of its head, con- 
siderable development.?” 

“Yes, Conseil.” 

“And was not its mouth like a parrot’s beak.?” 

“Exactly, Conseil.” 

“Very well! no offence to master,” he replied, quietly; 
“if this is not Bouguer’s cuttle-fish, it is, at least, one of its 
brothers.” 

I looked at Conseil. Ned Land hurried to the window. 

“What a horrible beast!” he cried. 

I looked in my turn, and could not repress a gesture of 
disgust. Before my eyes was a horrible monster worthy to 
figure in the legends of the marvellous. It was an immense 
cuttle-fish, being eight yards long. It swam crossways in the 
direction of the Nautilus with great speed, watching us with 
its enormous staring green eyes. Its eight arms, or rather 
feet, fixed to its head, that have given the name of cepha- 
lopod to these animals, were twice as long as its body, and 
were twdsted like the furies’ hair. One could see the 250 air- 
holes on the inner side of the tentacles. The monster’s mouth, 
a horned beak like a parrot’s, opened and shut vertically. 
Its tongue, a horned substance, furnished with several rows 
of pointed teeth, came out quivering from this veritable pair 
of shears. What a freak of nature, a bird’s beak on a mol- 
lusc! Its spindle-like body formed a fleshy mass that might 
weigh 4,000 to 5,000 lb. ; the varying colour changing with 
great rapidity, according to the irritation of the animal, 
passed successively from livid grey to reddish brown. What 
irritated this mollusc? No doubt the presence of the Nau- 
tilus, more formidable than itself, and on which its suckers 
or its jaws had no hold. Yet, what monsters these poulps 
are ! what vitality the Creator has given them ! what vigour 
in their movements ! and they possess three hearts ! Chance 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 263 

had brought us in presence of this cuttle-fish, and I did not 
wish to lose the opportunity of carefully studying this speci- 
men of cephalopods. I overcame the horror that inspired me, 
and, taking a pencil, began to draw it. 

“Perhaps this is the same which the Alector saw,” said 
Conseil. 

“No,” replied the Canadian; “for this is whole, and the 
other had lost its tail.” 

“That is no reason,” I replied. “The arms and tails of 
these animals are re-formed by renewal; and in seven years 
the tail of Bouguer’si cuttle-fish has no doubt had time to 
grow.” 

By this time other poulps appeared at the port light. I 
counted seven. They formed a procession after the Nautilus^ 
and I heard their beaks gnashing against the iron hull. I 
continued my work. These monsters kept in the water with 
such precision that they seemed immovable. Suddenly the 
Nautilus stopped. A shock made it tremble in every plate. 

“Have we struck anything?” I asked. 

“In any case,’^ replied the Canadian, “we shall be free, 
for we are floating.” 

The Nautilus was floating, no doubt, but it did not move. 
A minute passed. Captain Nemo, followed by his lieutenant, 
entered the drawing-room. I had not seen him for some 
time. He seemed dull. Without noticing or speaking to us, 
he went to the panel, looked at the poulps, and said some- 
thing to his lieutenant. The latter went out. Soon the panels 
were shut. The ceiling was lighted. I went towards the 
Captain. 

“A curious collection of poulps?” I said. 

“Yes, indeed, Mr. Naturalist,” he replied; “and we are 
going to fight them, man to beast.” 

I looked at him. I thought I had not heard aright. 

“Man to beast?” I repeated. 

“Yes, sir. The screw is stopped. I think that the horny 
jaws of one of the cuttle-fish is entangled in the blades. 
That is what prevents our moving.” 

“What are you going to do?” 

“Rise to the surface, and slaughter this vermin.” 


^64) TWENTY THOUSAND TEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

‘‘A difficult enterprise.” 

“Yes, indeed. The electric bullets are powerless against 
the soft flesh, where they do not find resistance enough to 
go off. But we shall attack them with the hatchet.” 

“And the harpoon, sir,” said the Canadian, “if you do 
not refuse my help.” 

“I will accept it. Master Land.” 

“We will follow you,” I said, and, following Captain 
Nemo, we went towards the central staircase. 

There, about ten men with boarding-hatchets were ready 
for the attack. Conseil and I took two hatchets; Ned Land 
seized a harpoon. The Nautilus had then risen to the sur- 
face. One of the sailors, posted on the top ladderstep, un- 
screwed the bolts of the panels. But hardly were the screws 
loosed, when the panel rose with great violence, evidently 
drawn by the suckers of a poulp’s arm. Immediately one 
of these arms slid like a serpent down the opening and 
twenty others were above. With one blow of the axe. Cap- 
tain Nemo cut this formidable tentacle, that slid wriggling 
down the ladder. Just as we were pressing one on the other 
to reach the platform, two other arms, lashing the air, came 
down on the seaman placed before Captain Nemo, and 
lifted him up with irresistible power. Captain Nemo uttered 
R cry, and rushed out. We hurried after him. 

What a scene! The unhappy man, seized by the tentacle 
Rnd fixed to the suckers, was balanced in the air at the 
caprice of this enormous trunk. He rattled in his throat, he 
was stifled, he cried, “Help! help!” These words, spoken in 
French, startled me! I had a fellow-countryman on board, 
perhaps several! That heart-rending cry! I shall hear it 
all my life. The unfortunate man was lost. Who could rescue 
him from that powerful pressure? However, Captain Nemo 
had rushed to the poulp, and with one blow of the axe had 
cut through one arm. His lieutenant struggled furiously 
against other monsters that crept on the flanks of the 
Nautilus. The crew fought with their axes. The Canadian, 
Conseil, and I buried our weapons in the fleshy masses; a 
strong smell of musk penetrated the atmosphere. It was 
horrible ! 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 265 

For one instant, I thought the unhappy man, entangled 
with the poulp, would be torn from its powerful suction. 
Seven of the eight arms had been cut off. One onl}^ wriggled 
in the air, brandishing the victim like a feather. But just as 
Captain Nemo and his lieutenant threw themselves on it, 
the animal ejected a stream of black liquid. We were blinded 
with it. When the cloud dispersed, the cuttle-fish had dis- 
appeared, and my unfortunate countryman with it. Ten 
or twelve poulps now invaded the platform and sides of the 
Nautilus. We rolled pell-mell into the midst of this nest of 
serpents, that wriggled on the platform in the waves of 
blood and ink. It seemed as though these slimy tentacles 
sprang up like the hydra’s heads. Ned Land’s harpoon, at 
each stroke, was plunged into the staring eyes of the cuttle- 
fish. But my bold companion was suddenly overturned bjT 
the tentacles of a monster he had not been able to avoid. 

Ah! how my heart beat with emotion and horror! The 
formidable beak of a cuttle-fish was open over Ned Land. 
The unhappy man w^ould be cut in two. I rushed to his 
succour. But Captain Nemo was before me; his axe dis- 
appeared between the two enormous jaws, and, miracu- 
lously saved, the Canadian, rising, plunged his harpoon 
deep into the triple heart of the poulp. 

“I owed myself this revenge!” said the Captain to the 
Canadian. 

Ned bowled without replying. The combat had lasted a 
quarter of an hour. The monsters, vanquished and muti- 
lated, left us at last, and disappeared under the waves. 
Captain Nemo, covered with blood, nearly exhausted, gazed 
upon the sea that had swallowed up one of his companions, 
and great tears gathered in his eyes. 


CHAPTER XIX 

THE GULF STREAM 

This terrible scene of the 20th of April none of us can 
ever forget. I have written it under the influence of violent 


266 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

emotion. Since then I have revised the recital; I have read 
it to Conseil and to the Canadian. They found it exact as 
to facts, but insufficient as to effect. To paint such pictures, 
one must have the pen of the most illustrious of our poets, 
the author of The Toilers of the Deep. 

I have said that Captain Nemo wept while watching the 
waves ; his grief was great. It was the second companion he 
had lost since our arrival on board, and what a death ! That 
friend, crushed, stifled, bruised by the dreadful arms of a 
poulp, pounded by his iron jaws, would not rest with his 
comrades in the peaceful coral cemetery! In the midst of 
the struggle, it was the despairing cry uttered by the un- 
fortunate man that had torn my heart. The poor French- 
man, forgetting his conventional language, had taken to his 
own mother tongue, to utter a last appeal! Amongst the 
crew of the Nawtilus, associated with the body and soul of 
the Captain, recoiling like him from all contact with men, I 
had a fellow-countryman. Did he alone represent France in 
this mysterious association, evidently composed of indivi- 
duals of divers nationalities? It was one of these insoluble 
problems that rose up unceasingly before my mind! 

. Captain Nemo entered his room, and I saw him no more 
for some time. But that he was sad and irresolute I could 
see by the vessel, of which he was the soul, and which re- 
ceived all his impressions. The Nautilus did not keep on in 
its settled course ; it floated about like a corpse at the will 
of the waves. It went at random. He could not tear himself 
away from the scene of the last struggle, from this sea that 
had devoured one of his men. Ten days passed thus. It was 
not till the 1st of May that the Nautilus resumed its north- 
erly course, after having sighted the Bahamas at the mouth 
of the Bahama Canal. We were then following the current 
from the largest river to the sea, that has its banks, its fish, 
and its proper temperatures. I mean the Gulf Stream. It is 
really a river, that flows freely to the middle of the Atlantic, 
and whose waters do not mix with the ocean waters. It is 
a salt river, salter than the surrounding sea. Its mean depth 
is 1,500 fathoms, its mean breadth ten miles. In certain 
places the current flows with the speed of two miles and a 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 267 

half an hour. The body of its waters is more considerable 
than that of all the rivers in the globe. It was on this ocean 
river that the Nautilus then sailed. 

I must add that, during the night, the phosphorescent 
waters of the Gulf Stream rivalled the electric power of our 
watch-light, especially in the stormy weather that threat- 
ened us so frequently. May 8th, we were still crossing Cape 
Hatteras, at the height of the North Caroline. The width of 
the Gulf Stream there is seventy-five miles, and its depth 
210 yards. The Nautilus still went at random; all super- 
vision seemed abandoned. I thought that, under these cir- 
cumstances, escape would be possible. Indeed, the inhabited 
shores offered anywhere an easy refuge. The sea was in- 
cessantly ploughed by the steamers that ply between New 
York or Boston and the Gulf of Mexico, and overrun day 
and night by the little schooners coasting about the several 
parts of the American coast. We could hope to be picked 
up. It was a favourable opportunity, notwithstanding the 
thirty miles that separated the Nautilus from the coasts 
of the Union. One unfortunate circumstance thwarted the 
Canadian’s plans. The weather was very bad. We were near- 
ing those shores where tempests are so frequent, that 
country of waterspouts and cyclones actually engendered 
by the current of the Gulf Stream. To tempt the sea in a 
frail boat was certain destruction. Ned Land owned this 
himself. He fretted, seized with nostalgia that flight only 
could cure. 

“Master,” he said that day to me, “this must come to an 
end. I 'must make a clean breast of it. This Nemo is leaving 
land and going up to the north. But I declare to you that I 
have had enough of the South Pole, and I will not follow 
him to the North.” 

“What is to be done, Ned, since flight is impracticable 
just now.^” 

“We must speak to the Captain,” said he; “you said 
nothing when we were in your native seas. I will speak, 
now we are in mine. When I think that before long the 
Nautilus will be by Nova Scotia, and that there near New- 
foundland is a large bay, and into that bay the St. Lawrence 


^6S TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

empties itself, and that the St. Lawrence is my river, the 
river by Quebec, my native town — when I think of this, I 
feel furious, it makes my hair stand on end. Sir, I would 
rather throw myself into the sea ! I will not stay here ! I am 
stifled !” 

The Canadian was evidently losing all patience. His 
vigorous nature could not stand this prolonged imprison- 
ment. His face altered daily ; his temper became more surly. 
I knew what he must suffer, for I was seized with home- 
sickness myself. Nearly seven months had passed without 
our having had any news from land; Captain Nemo’s isola- 
tion, his altered spirits, especially since the fight with the 
poulps, his taciturnity, all made me view things in a differ- 
ent light. 

‘‘Well, sir.?” said Ned, seeing I did not reply. 

“Well, Ned, do you wish me to ask Captain Nemo his 
intentions concerning us.?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Although he has already made them known.?” 

“Yes ; I wish it settled finally. Speak for me, in my name 
only, if you like.” 

“But I so seldom meet him. He avoids me.” 

“That is all the more reason for you to go to see him.” 

I went to my room. From thence I meant to go to Cap- 
tain Nemo’s. It would not do to let this opportunity of meet- 
ing him slip. I knocked at the door. No answer. I knocked 
again, then turned the handle. The door opened, I went in. 
The Captain was there. Bending over his work-table, he had 
not heard me. Resolved not to go without having spoken, 
I approached him. He raised his head quickly, frowned, and 
said roughly, “You here! What do you want.?” 

“To speak to you. Captain.” 

“But I am busy, sir ; I am working. I leave you at liberty 
to shut yourself up; cannot I be allowed the same.?” 

This reception was not encouraging; but I was deter- 
mined to hear and answer everything. 

Sir,” I said coldly, “I have to speak to you on a matter 
that admits of no delay.” 

“What is that, sir.?” he replied, ironically. “Have you dis- 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 269 

covered something that has escaped me, or has the sea de- 
livered up any new secrets?” 

We were at cross-purposes. But, before I could reply, he 
showed me an open manuscript on his table, and said, in 
a more serious tone, “Here, M. Aronnax, is a manuscript 
written in several languages. It contains the sum of my 
studies of the sea; and, if it please God, it shall not perish 
with me. This manuscript, signed with my name, complete 
with the history of my life, will be shut up in a little floating 
case. The last survivor of all of us on board the Nautilus 
will throw this case intoj the sea, and it will go whither it 
is borne by the waves.” 

This man’s name! his history written by himself! His 
mystery would then be revealed some day. 

“Captain,” I said, “I can but approve of the idea that 
makes you act thus. The result of your studies must not be 
lost. But the means you employ seem to me to be primitive. 
Who knows where the winds will carry this case, and in 
whose hands it will fall? Could you not use some other 
means? Could not you, or one of yours ” * 

“Never, sir!” he said, hastily interrupting me. 

“But I and my companions are ready to keep this manu- 
script in store ; and, if you will put us at liberty ” 

“At liberty?” said the Captain, rising. 

“Yes, sir; that is the subject on which I wish to question 
you. For seven months we have been here on board, and 
I ask you to-day, in the name of my companions and in 
my own, if your intention is to keep us here always?” 

“M. Aronnax, I will answer you to-day as I did seven 
months ago: Whoever enters the Nautilus must never quit 
it.” 

“You impose actual slavery upon us!” 

“Give it what name you please.” 

“But everywhere the slave has the right to regain his 
liberty.” 

“Who denies you this right? Have I ever tried to chain 
you with an oath?” 

He looked at me with his arms crossed. 

“Sir,” I said, “to return a second time to this subject 


270 TWENTY THOUSAND TEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

will be neither to your nor to my taste; but, as we have 
entered upon it, let us go through with it. I repeat, it is not 
only myself whom it concerns. Study is to me a relief, a 
diversion, a passion that could make me forget everything. 
Like you, I am willing to live obscure, in the frail hope of 
bequeathing one day, to future time, the result of my lab- 
ours. But it is otherwise with Ned Land. Every man, worthy 
of the name, deserves some consideration. Have you thought 
that love of liberty, hatred of slavery, can give rise to 
schemes of revenge in a nature like the Canadian’s ; that he 
could think, attempt, and try ” 

I was silenced ; Captain Nemo rose. 

‘‘Whatever Ned Land thinks of, attempts, or tries, what 
does it matter to me ? I did not seek him ! It is not for my 
pleasure that I keep him on board ! As for you, M. Aronnax, 
you are one of those who can understand everything, even 
silence. I have nothing more to say to you. Let this first 
time you have come to treat of this subject be the last, for 
a second time I will not listen to you.” 

I retii'fed. Our situation was critical. I related my con- 
versation to my two companions. 

“We know now,” said Ned, “that we can expect nothing 
from this man. The Nautilus is nearing Long Island. We 
will escape, whatever the weather may be.” 

But the sky became more and more threatening. Symp- 
toms of a hurricane became manifest. The atmosphere was 
becoming white and misty. On the horizon fine streaks of 
cirrhous clouds were succeeded by masses of cumuli. Other 
low clouds passed swiftly by. The swollen sea rose in huge 
billows. The birds disappeared with the exception of the 
petrels, those friends of the storm. The barometer fell 
sensibly, and indicated an extreme extension of the vapours. 
The mixture of the storm glass was decomposed under the 
influence of the electricity that pervaded the atmosphere. 
The tempest burst on the 18th of May, just as the Nautilus 
was floating off Long Island, some miles from the port of 
New York. I can describe this strife of the elements! for, 
instead of fleeing to the depths of* the sea. Captain Nemo, 
by an unaccountable caprice, would brave it at the surface. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 271 

The wind blew from the south-west at first. Captain Nemo, 
during the squalls, had taken his place on the platform. 
He had made himself fast, to prevent being washed over- 
board by the monstrous waves. I had hoisted myself up, 
and made myself fast also, dividing my admiration between 
the tempest and this extraordinary man who was coping 
with it. The raging sea was swept by huge cloud-drifts, 
which were actually saturated with the waves. The Nautilus, 
sometimes lying on its side, sometimes standing up like a 
mast, rolled and pitched terribly. About five o’clock a tor- 
rent of rain fell, that lulled neither sea nor wind. The hurri- 
cane blew nearly forty leagues an hour. It is under these 
conditions that it overturns houses, breaks iron gates, dis- 
places twenty-four pounders. However, the Nautilus, in 
the midst of the tempest, confirmed the words of a clever 
engineer, ‘‘There is no well-constructed hull that cannot 
defy the sea.” This was not a resisting rock; it was a steel 
spindle, obedient and movable, without rigging or masts, 
that braved its fury witji impunity. However, I watched 
these raging waves attentively. They measured fifteen feet 
in height, and 150 to 175 yards long, and their speed of 
propagation was thirty feet per second. Their bulk and 
power increased with the depth of the water. Such waves as 
these, at the Hebrides, have displaced a mass weighing 
8,400 lb. They are they which, in the tempest of December 
23rd, 1864, after destroying the town of Yeddo, in Japan, 
broke the same day on the shores of America. The intensity 
of the tempest increased with the night. The barometer, 
as in 1860 at Reunion during a cyclone, fell seven-tenths 
at the close of day. I saw a large vessel pass the horizon 
struggling painfully. She was trying to lie to under half 
steam, to keep up above the waves. It was probably one of 
the steamers of the line from New York to Liverpool, or 
Havre. It soon disappeared in the gloom. At ten o’clock in 
the evening the sky was on fire. The atmosphere was 
streaked with vivid lightning. I could not bear the bright- 
ness of it; while the captain, looking at it, seemed to envy 
the spirit of the tempest. A terrible noise filled the air, a 
‘iomplex noise, made up of the howls of the crushed waves, 


272 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

the roaring of the wind, and the claps of thunder. The 
wind veered suddenly to all points of the horizon; and the 
cyclone, rising in the east, returned after passing by the 
north, west, and south, in the inverse course pursued by the 
circular storm of the southern hemisphere. Ah, that Gulf 
Stream! It deserves its name of the King of Tempests. It 
is that which causes those formidable cyclones, by the differ- 
ence of temperature between its air and its currents. A 
shower of fire had succeeded the rain. The drops of water 
were changed to sharp spikes. One would have thought that 
Captain Nemo was courting a death worthy of himself, a 
death by lightning. As the Nautilus^ pitching dreadfully, 
raised its steel spur in the air, it seemed to act as a con- 
ductor, and I saw long sparks burst from it. Crushed and 
vdthout strength I crawled to the panel, opened it, and de- 
scended to the saloon. The storm was then at its height. It 
was impossible to stand upright in the interior of the Nau- 
tilus. Captain Nemo came down about twelve. I heard the 
reservoirs filhng by degrees, and, the Nautilus sank slowly 
beneath the waves. Through the open windows in the saloon 
I saw large fish terrified, passing like phantoms in the water. 
Some were struck before my eyes. The Nautilus was still 
descending. I thought that at about eight fathoms deep we 
should find a calm. But no ! the upper beds were too violently 
agitated for that. We had to seek repose at more than 
twenty-five fathoms in the bowels of the deep. But there, 
what quiet, what silence, what peace! Who could have told 
that such a hurricane had been let loose on the surface of 
that ocean ? 


CHATTER XX 

FROM LATITUDE 47° 24' TO LONGITUDE 17° 28' 

In consequence of the storm, we had been thrown east- 
ward once more. All hope of escape on the shores of New 
York or St. Lawrence had faded away; and poor Ned, in 
despair, had isolated himself like Captain Nemo. ConseiJ 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 273 

and I, however, never left each other. I said that the 
Nautilus had gone aside to the east. I should have said (to 
be more exact) the north-east. For some days, it wandered 
first on the surface, and then beneath it, amid those fogs 
so dreaded by sailors. What accidents are due to these 
thick fogs ! What shocks upon these reefs when the wind 
drowns the breaking of the waves ! What collisions between 
vessels, in spite of their warning lights, whistles, and alarm 
bells! And the bottoms of these seas look like a field of 
battle, where still lie all the conquered of the ocean; some 
old and already encrusted, others fresh and reflecting from 
their iron bands and copper plates the brilliancy of our 
lantern. 

On the 15th of May we were at the extreme south of the 
Bank of Newfoundland. This bank consists of alluvia, or 
large heaps of organic matter, brought either from the 
Equator by the Gulf Stream, or from the North Pole by 
the counter-current of cold water which skirts the Ameri- 
can coast. There also are heaped up those erratic blocks 
which are carried along by the broken ice; and close by, 
a vast charnel-house of molluscs, which perish here by 
millions. The depth of the sea is not great at Newfound- 
land — not more than some hundreds of fathoms; but to- 
wards the south is a depression of 1,500 fathoms. There 
the Gulf Stream widens. It loses some of its speed and some 
of its temperature, but it becomes a sea. 

It was on the 17th of May, about 500 miles from Heart’s 
Content, at a depth of more than 1,400 fathoms, that I saw 
the electric cable lying on the bottom. Conseil, to whom 
I had not mentioned it, thought at first that it was a gigantic 
sea-serpent. But I undeceived the worthy fellow, and by 
way of consolation related several particulars in the laying 
of this cable. The first one was laid in the years 1857 and 
1858; but, after transmitting about 400 telegrams, would 
not act any longer. In 1863 the engineers constructed an- 
other one, measuring 2,000 miles in length, and weighing 
4,500 tons, which was embarked on the Great Eastern. This 
attempt also failed. 

On the 25th of May the Nautilus ^ being at a depth of 


274 TWENTY THOUSAND TEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

more than 1,918 fathoms, was on the precise spot where 
the rupture occured which ruined tlie enterprise. It was 
within 638 miles of the coast of Ireland; and at half-past 
two in the afternoon they discovered that communication 
with Europe had ceased. The electricians on board resolved 
to cut the cable before fishing it up, and at eleven o’clock 
at night they had recovered the damaged part. They made 
another point and spliced it, and it was once more sub- 
merged. But some days after it broke again, and in the 
depths of the ocean could not be recaptured. The Ameri- 
cans, however, were not discouraged. Cyrus Field, the bold 
promoter of the enterprise, as he had sunk all his own 
fortune, set a new subscription on foot, which was at once 
answered, and another cable was constructed on better 
principles. The bundles of conducting wires were each en- 
veloped in gutta-percha, and protected by a wadding of 
hemp, contained in a metallic covering. The Great Eastern 
sailed on the 13th of July, 1866. The operation worked 
well. But one incident occurred. Several times in unrolling 
the cable they observed that nails had recently been forced 
into it, evidently with the motive of destroying it. Captain 
Anderson, the officers, and engineers consulted together, and 
had it posted up that, if the offender was surprised on 
board, he would be thrown without further trial into the sea. 
From that time the criminal attempt was never repeated. 

On the 23rd of July the Great Eastern was not more than 
500 miles from Newfoundland, when they telegraphed from 
Ireland the news of the armistice concluded between Prussia 
and Austria after Sadowa. On the 27th, in the midst of 
heavy fogs, they reached the port of Heart’s Content. The 
enterprise was successfully terminated; and for its first 
despatch, young America addressed old Europe in these 
words of wisdom, so rarely understood: “Glory to God in 
the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill towards men.” 

I did not expect to find the electric cable in its primitive 
state, such as it was on leaving the manufactory. The long 
serpent, covered with the remains of shells, bristling with 
foraminiferae, was encrusted with a strong coating whicli 
served as a protection against all boring molluscs. It lay 


TWENTY THOUSAND TEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 275 

quietly sheltered from the motions of the sea, and under a 
favourable pressure for the transmission of the electric 
spark which passes from Europe to America in .32 of a 
second. Doubtless this cable will last for a great length of 
time, for they find that the gutta-percha covering is im- 
proved by the sea-water. Besides, on this level, so well chosen, 
the cable is never so deeply submerged as to cause it to 
break. The Nautilus followed it to the lowest depth, which 
was more than 2,212 fathoms, and there it lay without any 
anchorage ; and then we reached the spot where the accident 
had taken place in 1863. The bottom of the ocean then 
formed a valley about 100 miles broad, in which Mont Blanc 
might have been placed without its summit appearing above 
the waves. This valley is closed at the east by a perpendicu- 
lar wall more than 2,000 yards high. We arrived there on 
the 28th of May, and the Nautilus was then not more than 
120 miles from Ireland. 

Was Captain Nemo going to land on the British Isles.? 
No. To my great surprise he made for the south, once more 
coming back towards European seas. In rounding the Emer- 
ald Isle, for one instant I caught sight of Cape Clear, and 
the light which guides the thousands of vessels leaving Glas- 
gow or Liverpool. An important question then arose in my 
mind. Did the Nautilus dare entangle itself in the Manche.? 
Ned Land, who had re-appeared since we had been nearing 
land, did not cease to question me. How could I answer.? 
Captain Nemo reminded invisible. After having shown the 
Canadian a glimpse of American shores, was he going to 
show me the coast of France.? 

But the Nautilus was still going southward. On the 30th 
of May, it passed in sight of Land’s End, between the ex- 
treme point of England and the Scilly Isles, which were left 
to starboard. If we wished to enter the Manche, he must go 
straight to the east. He did not do so. 

During the whole of the 31st of May, the Nautilus de- 
scribed a series of circles on the water, which greatly inter- 
ested me. It seemed to be seeking a spot it had some trouble 
in finding. At noon. Captain Nemo himself came to work 
the ship’s log. He spoke no word to me, but seemed gloomier 


276 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

than ever. What could sadden him thus.^^ Was it his proxim- 
ity to European shores.? Had he some recollections of his 
abandoned country? If not, what did he feel? Remorse or 
regret? For a long while this thought haunted my mind, and 
I had a kind of presentiment that before long chance would 
betray the captain’s secrets. 

The next day, the 1st of June, the Nautilus continued 
the same process. It was evidently seeking some particular 
spot in the ocean. Captain Nemo took the sun’s altitude 
as he had done the day before. The sea was beautiful, the 
sky clear. About eight miles to the east, a large steam vessel 
could be discerned on the horizon. No flag fluttered from 
its mast, and I could not discover its nationality. Some 
minutes before the sun passed the meridian. Captain Nemo 
took his sextant, and watched with great attention. The 
perfect rest of the water greatly helped the operation. The 
Nautilus was motionless ; it neither rolled nor pitched. 

I was on the platform when the altitude was taken, and 
the Captain pronounced these words : “It is here.” 

He turned and went below. Had he seen the vessel which 
was changing its course and seemed to be nearing us? 
I could not tell. I returned to the saloon. The panels closed, 
I heard the hissing of the water in the reservoirs. The 
Nautilus began to sink, following a vertical line, for its screw 
communicated no motion to it. Some minutes later it 
stopped at a depth of more than 420 fathoms, resting on the 
ground. The luminous ceiling was darkened, then the panels 
were opened, and through the glass I saw the sea brilliantly 
illuminated by the rays of our lantern for at least half a 
mile round us. 

I looked to the port side, and saw nothing but an im- 
mensity of quiet waters. But to starboard, on the bottom 
appeared a large protuberance, which at once attracted my 
attention. One would have thought it a ruin buried under a 
coating of white shells, much resembling a covering of 
snow. Upon examining the mass attentively, I could recog- 
nise the ever-thickening form of a vessel bare of its masts, 
which must have sunk. It certainly belonged to past times. 
This wreck, to be thus encrusted with the lime of the water. 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 277 

must already be able to count many years passed at the 
bottom of the ocean. 

What was this vessel? Why did the Nautilus visit its 
tomb? Could it have been aught but a shipwreck which had 
drawn it under the water? I knew not what to think, when 
near me in a slow voice I heard Captain Nemo say: 

‘‘At one time this ship was called the Marseillais. It 
carried seventy-four guns, and was launched in 1762. In 
1778, the 13th of August, commanded by La Poype-Ver- 
trieux, it fought boldly against the Preston. In 1779, on the 
4th of July, it was at the taking of Grenada, with the squad- 
ron of Admiral Estaing. In 1781, on the 5th of September, 
it took part in the battle of Comte de Grasse, in Chesapeake 
Bay. In 1794, the French Republic changed its name. On 
the 16th of April, in the same year, it joined the squadron 
of Villaret Joyeuse, at Brest, being entrusted with the escort 
of a cargo of corn coming from America, under the com- 
mand of Admiral Van Stebel. On the 11th and 12th Prairal 
of the second year, this squadron fell in with an English 
vessel. Sir, to-day is the 13th Prairal, the first of June, 1868. 
It is now seventy-four years ago, day for day on this very 
spot, in latitude 47° 24', longitude 17° 28', that this vessel, 
after fighting heroically, losing its three masts, with the 
water in its hold, and the third of its crew disabled, pre- 
ferred sinking with its 356 sailors to surrendering; and, 
nailing its colours to the poop, disappeared under the waves 
to the cry of ‘Long live the Republic ” 

“The Avenger I exclaimed. 

“Yes, sir, the Avenger \ A good name!” muttered Cap- 
tain Nemo, crossing his arms. 


CHAPTER XXI 

A HECATOMB 

T HE way of describing this unlooked-for scene, the history 
of the patriot ship, told at first so coldly, and the emotion 
with which this strange man pronounced the last words, 


^78 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

the name of the Avenger, the significance of which could 
not escape me, all impressed itself deeply on my mind. My 
eyes did not leave the Captain, who, with his hand stretched 
out to sea, was watching with a glowing eye the glorious 
wreck. Perhaps I was never to know who he was, from 
whence he came, or where he was going to, but I saw the 
man move, and apart from the savant. It was no common 
misanthropy which had shut Captain Nemo and his com- 
panions within the Nautilus, but a hatred, either monstrous 
or sublime, which time could never weaken. Did this hatred 
still seek for vengeance The future would soon teach me 
that. But the Nautilus was rising slowly to the surface of 
the sea, and the form of the Avenger disappeared by degrees 
from my sight. Soon a slight rolling told me that we were 
in the open air. At that moment a dull boom was heard. I 
looked at the Captain. He did not move. 

‘‘Captain said I. 

He did not answer. I left him and mounted the platform. 
Conseil and the Canadian were already there. 

“Where did that sound come from.?” I asked. 

“It was a gunshot,” replied Ned Land. 

I looked in the direction of the vessel I had already seen. 
It was nearing the Nautilus, and we could see that it w^as 
putting on steam. It was within six miles of us. 

“What is that ship, Ned.?” 

“By its rigging, and the height of its lower masts,” said 
the Canadian, “I bet she is a ship-of-war. May it reach us ; 
and, if necessary, sink this cursed Nautilus.^’ 

“Friend Ned,” replied Conseil, “what harm can it do to 
the Nautilus? Can it attack it beneath the waves? Can 
its cannonade us at the bottom of the sea .?” 

“Tell me, Ned,” said I, “can you recognise what country 
she belongs to?” 

The Canadian knitted his eyebrows, dropped his eyelids, 
and screwed up the corners of his eyes, and for a few mo- 
ments fixed a piercing look upon the vessel. 

“No, sir,” he replied ; “I cannot tell what nation she be- 
longs to, for she shows no colours. But I can declare she is 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 279 

a man-of-war, for a long pennant flutters from her main 
mast.” 

For a quarter of an hour we watched the ship which was 
steaming towards us. I could not, however, believe that she 
could see the Nautilus from that distance ; and still less that 
she could know what this submarine engine was. Soon the 
Canadian informed me that she was a large, armoured, two- 
decker ram. A thick black smoke was pouring from her two 
funnels. Her closely-furled sails were stopped to her yards. 
She hoisted no flag at her mizzen-peak. The distance pre- 
vented us from distinguishing the colours of her pennant, 
which floated like a thin ribbon. She advanced rapidly. If 
Captain Nemo allowed her to approach, there was a chance 
of salvation for us. 

“Sir,” said Ned Land, “if that vessel passes within a 
mile of us I shall throw myself into the sea, and I should 
advise you to do the same.” 

I did not reply to the Canadian’s suggestion, but con- 
tinued watching the ship. Whether English, French, Ameri- 
can, or Russian, she would be sure to take us in if we could 
only reach her. Presently a white smoke burst from the fore 
part of the vessel; some seconds after, the water, agitated 
by the fall of a heavy body, splashed the stern of the 
Nautilus^ and shortly afterwards a loud explosion struck 
my ear. 

“What! they are firing at us!” I exclaimed. 

“So please you, sir,” said Ned, “they have recognised 
the unicorn, and they are firing at us.” 

“But,” I exclaimed, “surely they can see that there are 
men in the case.^” 

“It is, perhaps, because of that,” replied Ned Land, look- 
ing at me. 

A whole flood of light burst upon my mind. Doubtless 
they knew now how to believe the stories of the pretended 
monster. No doubt, on board the Abraham Lincoln^ when 
the Canadian struck it with the harpoon. Commander 
Farragut had recognised in the supposed narwhal a sub- 
marine vessel, more dangerous than a supernatural cetacean. 
Yes, it must have been so ; and on every sea they were now 


280 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

seeking this engine of destruction. Terrible indeed! if, as 
we supposed, Captain Nemo employed the Nautilus in works 
of vengeance. On the night when we were imprisoned in that 
cell, in the midst of the Indian Ocean, had he not attacked 
some vessel.^ The man buried in the coral cemetery, had he 
not been a victim to the shock caused by the Nautilus? Yes, 
I repeat it, it must be so. One part of the mysterious exist- 
ence of Captain Nemo had been unveiled; and, if his iden- 
tity had not been recognised, at least, the nations united 
against him were no longer hunting a chimerical creature, 
but a man who had vowed a deadly hatred against them. All 
the formidable past rose before me. Instead of meeting 
friends on board the approaching ship, we could only expect 
pitiless enemies. But the shot rattled about us. Some of them 
struck the sea and ricochetted, losing themselves in the dis- 
tance. But none touched the Nautilus. The vessel was not 
more than three miles from us. In spite of the serious can- 
nonade, Captain Nemo did not appear on the platform ; but, 
if one of the conical projectiles had struck the shell of the 
Nautilus^ it would have been fatal. The Canadian then said, 
‘‘Sir, we must do all we can to get out of this dilemma. Let 
us signal them. They will then, perhaps, understand that 
we are honest folks.” 

Ned Land took his handkerchief to wave in the air; but 
he had scarcely displayed it, when he was struck down by 
an iron hand, and fell, in spite of his great strength, upon 
the deck. 

“Fool!” exclaimed the Captain, “do you wish to be pierced 
by the spur of the Nautilus before it is hurled at this 
vessel.?” 

Captain Nemo was terrible to hear; he was still more 
terrible to see. His face was deadly pale, with a spasm at 
his heart. For an instant it must have ceased to beat. His 
pupils were fearfully contracted. He did not speak, he 
roared, as, with his body thrown forward, he wrung the 
Canadian’s shoulders. Then, leaving him, and turning to 
the ship of war, whose shot was still raining around him, 
he exclaimed, with a powerful voice, “Ah, ship of an ac- 


TWENTY THOUSAND TEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 281 

cursed nation, you know who I am ! I do not want your 
colours to know you by ! Look ! and I will show you mine !” 

And on the fore part of the platform Captain Nemo un- 
furled a black flag, similar to the one he had placed at the 
South Pole. At that moment a shot struck the shell of the 
Nautilus obliquely, without piercing it; and, rebounding 
near the Captain, was lost in the sea. He shrugged his 
shoulders ; and, addressing me, said shortly, “Go down, you 
and your companions, go down !” 

“Sir,” I cried, “are you going to attack this vessel.^” 

“Sir, I am going to sink it.” 

“You will not do that.^” 

“I shall do it,” he replied coldly. “And I advise you not 
to judge me, sir. Fate has shown you what you ought not 
to have seen. The attack has begun ; go down.” 

“What is this vessel.^” 

“You do not know.^ Very well! so much the better! Its 
nationality to you, at least, will be a secret. Go down!” 

We could but obey. About fifteen of the sailors sur- 
rounded the Captain, looking with implacable hatred at the 
vessel nearing them. One could feel that the same desire of 
vengeance animated every soul. I went down at the moment 
another projectile struck the Nautilus^ and I heard the Cap- 
tain exclaim: 

“Strike, mad vessel! Shower your useless shot! And then, 
you will not escape the spur of the Nautilus. But it is not 
here that you shall perish! I would not have your ruins 
mingle with those of the Aveng erV^ 

I reached my room. The Captain and his second had re- 
mained on the platform. The screw was set in motion, and 
the Nautilus^ moving with speed, was soon beyond the reach 
of the ship’s guns. But the pursuit continued, and Captain 
Nemo contented himself with keeping his distance. 

About four in the afternoon, being no longer able to con- 
tain my impatience, I went to the central staircase. The 
panel was open, and I ventured on to the platform. The 
Captain was still walking up and down with an agitated 
step. He was looking at the ship, which was five or six miles 
to leeward. 


282 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

He was going round it like a wild beast, and, drawing it 
eastward, he allowed them to pursue. But he did not attack. 
Perhaps he still hesitated I wished to mediate once more. 
But I had scarcely spoken, when Captain Nemo imposed 
silence, saying : 

“I am the law, and I am the judge! I am the oppressed, 
and there is the oppressor! Through him I have lost all 
that I loved, cherished, and venerated — country, wife, chil- 
dren, father, and mother. I saw all perish! All that I hate 
is there ! Say no more !” 

I cast a last look at the man-of-war, which was putting 
on steam, and rejoined Ned and Conseil. 

^‘We will fly!” I exclaimed. 

‘‘Good!” said Ned. “What is this vessel.^” 

“I do not know ; but, whatever it is, it will be sunk before 
night. In any case, it is better to perish with it, than be 
made accomplices in a retaliation the justice of which we 
cannot judge.” 

“That is my opinion too,” said Ned Land, coolly. “Let 
us wait for night.” 

Night arrived. Deep silence reigned on board. The com- 
pass showed that the Nautilus had not altered its course. 
It was on the surface, rolling slightly. My companions and 
I resolved to fly when the vessel should be near enough 
either to hear us or to see us ; for the moon, which would 
be full in two or three days, shone brightly. Once on board 
the ship, if we could not prevent the blow which threatened 
it, we could, at least we would, do all that circumstances 
would allow. Several times I thought the Nautilus was pre- 
paring for attack; but Captain Nemo contented himself 
with allowing his adversary to approach, and then fled once 
more before it. 

Part of the night passed without any incident. We 
watched the opportunity for action. We spoke little, for 
we were too much moved. Ned Land would have thrown him- 
self into the sea, but I forced him to wait. According to my 
idea, the Nautilus would attack the ship at her waterline, 
and then it would not only be possible, but easy to fly. 

At three in the morning, full of uneasiness, I mounted the 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 28S 

platform. Captain Nemo had not left it. He was standing 
at the fore part near his flag, which a slight breeze dis- 
played above his head. He did not take his eyes from the 
vessel. The intensity of his look seemed to attract, and fasci- 
nate, and draw it onward more surely than if he had been 
towing it. The moon was then passing the meridian. Jupiter 
was rising in the east. Amid this peaceful scene of nature, 
sky and ocean rivalled each other in tranquillity, the sea 
offering to the orbs of night the flnest mirror they could 
ever have in which to reflect their image. As I thought of 
the deep calm of these elements, compared with all those 
passions brooding imperceptibly within the Nautilus, I 
shuddered. 

The vessel was within two miles of us. It was ever near- 
ing that phosphorescent light which showed the presence of 
the Nautilus. I could see its green and red lights, and its 
white lantern hanging from the large foremast. An indis- 
tinct vibration quivered through its rigging, showing that 
the furnaces were heated to the uttermost. Sheaves of sparks 
and red ashes flew from the funnels, shining in the atmos- 
phere like stars. 

I remained thus until six in the morning, without Captain 
Nemo noticing me. The ship stood about a mile and a half 
from us, and with the first dawn of day the firing began 
afresh. The moment could not be far off when, the Nautilus 
attacking its adversary, my companions and myself should 
for ever leave this man. I was preparing to go down to re- 
mind them, when the second mounted the platform, accom- 
panied by several sailors. Captain Nemo either did not or 
would not see them. Some steps were taken which might be 
called the signal for action. They were very simple. The 
iron balustrade around the platform was lowered, and the 
lantern and pilot cages were pushed within the shell until 
they were flush with the deck. The long surface of the steel 
cigar no longer offered a single point to check its manoeu- 
vres. I returned to the saloon. The Nautilus still floated; 
some streaks of light were filtering through the liquid beds. 
With the undulations of the waves the windows were bright- 


S84 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

ened by the red streaks of the rising sun, and this dreadful 
day of the 2nd of June had dawned. 

At five o’clock, the log showed that the speed of the 
Nautilus was slackening, and I knew that it was allowing 
them to draw nearer. Besides, the reports were heard more 
distinctly, and the projectiles, labouring through the ambi- 
ent water, were extinguished with a strange hissing noise. 

My friends, said I, ^^the moment is come. One grasp of 
the hand, and may God protect us !” 

Ned Land was resolute, Conseil calm, myself so nervous 
that I knew not how to contain myself. We all passed into 
the library ; but the moment I pushed the door opening on 
to the central staircase, I heard the upper panel close 
sharply. The Canadian rushed on to the stairs, but I 
stopped him. A well-known hissing noise told me that the 
water was running into the reservoirs, and in a few minutes 
the Nautilus was some yards beneath the surface of the 
waves. I understood the manoeuvre. It was too late to act. 
The Nautilus did not wish to strike at the impenetrable 
cuirass, but below the water-line, where the metallic cover- 
ing no longer protected it. 

We were again imprisoned, unwilling witnesses of the 
dreadful drama that was preparing. We had scarcely time 
to reflect; taking refuge in my room, we looked at each 
other without speaking. A deep stupor had taken hold of 
my mind: thought seemed to stand still. I was in that pain- 
ful state of expectation preceding a dreadful report. I 
waited, I listened, every sense was merged in that of hear- 
ing ! The speed of the N autilus was accelerated. It was pre- 
paring to rush. The whole ship trembled. Suddenly I 
screamed. I felt the shock, but comparatively light. I felt 
the penetrating power of the steel spur. I heard rattlings 
and scrapings. But the Nautilus, carried along by its pro- 
pelling power, passed through the mass of the vessel like 
a needle through sailcloth! 

I could stand it no longer. Mad, out of my mind, I rushed 
from my room into the saloon. Captain Nemo was there 
mute, gloomy, implacable ; he was looking through the port 
panel. A large mass cast a shadow on the water ; and, that 


TWENTY THOUSAND TEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 285 

it might lose nothing of her agony, the Nautilus was going 
down into the abyss with her. Ten yards from me I saw the 
open shell, through which the water was rushing with the 
noise of thunder, then the double line of guns and the net- 
ting. The bridge was covered with black, agitated shadows. 

The water was rising. The poor creatures were crowding 
the ratlines, clinging to the masts, struggling under the 
water. It was a human ant-heap overtaken by the sea. 
Paralysed, stiffened with anguish, my hair standing on end, 
with eyes wide open, panting, without breath, and without 
voice, I too was watching! An irresistible attraction glued 
me to the glass ! Suddenly an explosion took place. The com- 
pressed air blew up her decks, as if the magazines had 
caught fire. Then the unfortunate vessel sank more rapidly. 
Her topmast, laden with victims, now appeared; then her 
spars, bending under the weight of men; and, last of all, 
the top of her mainmast. Then the dark mass disappeared, 
and with it the dead crew, drawn down by the strong eddy. 

I turned to Captain Nemo. That terrible avenger, a per- 
fect archangel of hatred, was still looking. When all was 
over, he turned to his room, opened the door, and entered. 
I followed him with my eyes. On the end wall beneath his 
heroes, I saw the portrait of a woman, still young, and two 
little children. Captain Nemo looked at them for some mo- 
ments, stretched his arms towards them, and, kneeling down, 
burst into deep sobs. 


CHAPTER XXII 

THE EAST WORDS OF CAPTAIN NEMO 

The panels had closed on this dreadful vision, but light 
had not returned to the saloon : all was silence and darkness 
within the Nautilus. At wonderful speed, a hundred feet be- 
neath the water, it was leaving this desolate spot. Whither 
was it going To the north or south Where was the man 
flying to after such dreadful retaliation I had returned to 
my room, where Ned and Conseil had remained silent 


286 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEx\ 

enough. I felt an insurmountable horror for Captain Nemo. 
Whatever he had suffered at the hands of these men, he had 
no right to punish thus. He had made me, if not an accom- 
plice, at least a witness of his vengeance. At eleven the 
electric light reappeared. I passed into the saloon. It was 
deserted. I consulted the different instruments. The Nautilus 
was flying northward at the rate of twenty-flve miles an 
hour, now on the surface, and now thirty feet below it. On 
taking the bearings by the chart, I saw that we were passing 
the mouth of the Manche, and that our course was hurrying 
us towards the northern seas at a frightful speed. That 
night we had crossed two hundred leagues of the Atlantic. 
The shadows fell, and the sea was covered with darkness 
until the rising of the moon. I went to my room, but could 
not sleep. I was troubled with dreadful nightmare. The hor- 
rible scene of destruction was continually before my eyes. 
From that day, who could tell into what part of the North 
Atlantic basin the Nautilus would take us? Still with unac- 
countable speed. Still in the midst of these northern fogs. 
Would it touch at Spitzbergen, or on the shores of Nova 
Zembla.^ Should we explore those unknowm seas, the White 
Sea, the Sea of Kara, the Gulf of Obi, the Archipelago of 
Liarrov, and the unknown coast of Asia? I could not say. 
I could no longer judge of the time that was passing. The 
clocks had been stopped on board. It seemed, as in polar 
countries, that night and day no longer followed their regu- 
lar course. I felt myself being drawn into that strange' re- 
gion where the foundered imagination of Edgar Poe roamed 
at will. Like the fabulous Gordon Pym, at every moment I 
expected to see “that veiled human figure, of larger pro- 
portions than those of any inhabitant of the earth, thrown 
across the cataract which defends the approach to the pole.” 
I estimated (though, perhaps, I may be mistaken) — I esti- 
mated this adventurous course of the Nautilus to have lasted 
fifteen or twenty days. And I know not how much longer it 
might have lasted, had it not been for the catastrophe which 
ended this voyage. Of Captain Nemo I saw nothing what- 
ever now, nor of his second. Not a man of the crew was vis- 
ible for an instant. The Nautilus was almost incessantly 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 287 

under water. When we came to the surface to renew the air, 
the panels opened and shut mechanically. There were no 
more marks on the planisphere. I knew not where we were. 
And the Canadian, too, his strength and patience at an end, 
appeared no more. Conseil could not draw a word from him ; 
and, fearing that, in a dreadful fit of madness, he might kill 
himself, watched him with constant devotion. One morning 
(what date it was I could not say) I had fallen into a heavy 
sleep towards the early hours, a sleep both painful and un- 
healthy, when I suddenly awoke. Ned Land was leaning over 
me, saying, in a low voice, “We are going to fly.” 

I sat up. 

“When shall we go?” I asked. 

“To-night. All inspection on board the Nautilus seems to 
have ceased. All appear to be stupefied. You will be ready, 
sir?” 

“Yes; where are we?” 

“In sight of land. I took the reckoning this morning in 
the fog — ^twenty miles to the east.” 

“What country is it?” 

“I do not know; but, whatever it is, we will take refuge 
there.” 

“Yes, Ned, yes. We will fly to-night, even if the sea 
should swallow us up.” 

“The sea is bad, the wind violent, but twenty miles in 
that light boat of the Nautilus does not frighten me. Un- 
knovTi to the crew, I have been able to procure food and 
some bottles of water.” 

“I will follow you.” 

“But,” continued the Canadian, “if I am surprised, I 
will defend myself ; I will force them to kill me.” 

“We will die together, friend Ned.” 

I had made up my mind to all. The Canadian left me. 
I reached the platform, on which I could with difficulty 
support myself against the shock of the waves. The sky was 
threatening; but, as land was in those thick brown shadows, 
we must fly. I returned to the saloon, fearing and yet hoping 
to see Captain Nemo, wishing and yet not wishing to see 
him. What could I have said to him? Could I hide the 


288 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

involuntary horror with which he inspired me? No. It was 
better that I should not meet him face to face; better to 

forget him. And yet How long seemed that day, the 

last that I should pass in the Nautilus. I remained alone. 
Ned Land and Conseil avoided speaking, for fear of betray- 
ing themselves. At six I dined, but I was not hungry; I 
forced myself to eat in spite of my disgust, that I might not 
weaken myself. At half-past six Ned Land came to my 
room, saying, “We shall not see each other again before 
our departure. At ten the moon will not be risen. We will 
profit by the darkness. Come to the boat; Conseil and I 
will wait for you.” 

The Canadian went out without giving me time to 
answer. Wishing to verify the course of the Nautilus, I went 
to the saloon. We were running N.N.E. at frightful speed, 
and more than fifty yards deep. I cast a last look on these 
wonders of nature, on the riches of art heaped up in this 
museum, upon the unrivalled collection destined to perish 
at the bottom of the sea, with him who had formed it. I 
wished to fix an indelible impression of it in my mind. I 
remained an hour thus, bathed in the light of that luminous 
ceiling, and passing in review those treasures shining under 
their glasses. Then I returned to my room. 

I dressed myself in strong sea clothing. I collected my 
notes, placing them carefully about me. My heart beat 
loudly. I could not check its pulsations. Certainly my 
trouble and agitation would have betrayed me to Captain 
Nemo’s eyes. What was he doing at this moment? I listened 
at the door of his room. I heard steps. Captain Nemo was 
there. He had not gone to rest. At every moment I expected 
to see him appear, and ask me why I wished to fly. I was 
constantly on the alert. My imagination magnified every- 
thing. The impression became at last so poignant that I 
asked myself if it would not be better to go to the Captain’s 
room, see him face to face, and brave him with look and 
gesture. 

It was the inspiration of a madman ; fortunately I resisted 
the desire, and stretched myself on my bed to quiet my bod- 
ily agitation. My nerves were somewhat calmer, but in my 


TWENTY THOUSAND TEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 289 

excited brain I saw over again all my existence on board the 
Nautilus ; every incident, either happy or unfortunate, 
which had happened since my disappearance from the Ahra- 
liam Lincoln — the submarine hunt, the Torres Straits, the 
savages of Papua, the running ashore, the coral cemetery, 
the passage of Suez, the Island of Santorin, the Cretan 
diver, Vigo Bay, Atlantis, the iceberg, the South Pole, the 
imprisonment in the ice, the fight among the poulps, the 
storm in the Gulf Stream, the Avenger^ and the horrible 
scene of the vessel sunk with all her creM\ All these events 
passed before my eyes like scenes in a drama. Then Cap- 
tain Nemo seemed to grow enormously, his features to as- 
sume superhuman proportions. He was no longer my equal, 
but a man of the waters, the genie of the sea. 

It was then half-past nine. I held my head between my 
hands to keep it from bursting. I closed my eyes; I would 
not think any longer. There was another half-hour to wait, 
another half-hour of a nightmare, which might drive me 
mad. 

At that moment I heard the distant strains of the organ, 
a sad harmony to an undefinable chant, the wail of a soul 
longing to break these earthly bonds. I listened with every 
sense, scarcely breathing; plunged, like Captain Nemo, in 
that musical ecstasy, which was drawing him in spirit to the 
end of life. 

Then a sudden thought terrified me. Captain Nemo had 
left his room. He was in the saloon, which I must cross to 
fly. There I should meet him for the last time. He would 
see me, perhaps speak to me. A gesture of his might destroy 
me, a single word chain me on board. 

But ten was about to strike. The moment had come for 
me to leave my room, and join my companions. 

I must not hesitate, even if Captain Nemo himself should 
rise before me. I opened my door carefully ; and even then, 
as it turned on its hinges, it seemed to me to make a dread- 
ful noise. Perhaps it only existed in my own imagination. 

I crept along the dark stairs of the Nautilus^ stopping at 
each step to check the beating of my heart. I reached the 
door of the saloon, and opened it gently. It was plunged in 


290 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 

profound darkness. Tlie strains of the organ sounded 
faintly. Captain Nemo was there. He did not see me. In the 
full light I do not think he would have noticed me, so entirely 
was he absorbed in the ecstasy. 

I crept along the carpet, avoiding the slightest sound 
which might betray my presence. I was at least five minutes 
reaching the door, at the opposite side, opening into the 
library. 

I was going to open it, when a sigh from Captain Nemo 
nailed me to the spot. I knew that he was rising. I could 
even see him, for the light from the library came through 
to the saloon. He came towards me silently, with his arms 
crossed, gliding like a spectre rather than walking. His 
breast was swelling with sobs ; and I heard him murmur 
these words (the last which ever struck my ear) : 

“Almighty God ! enough ! enough !” 

Was it a confession of remorse which thus escaped from 
this man’s conscience? 

In desperation, I rushed through the library, mounted 
the central staircase, and, following the upper flight, reached 
the boat. I crept through the opening, which had already 
admitted my two companions. 

“Let us go ! let us go !” I exclaimed. 

“Directly!” replied the Canadian. 

. The orifice in the plates of the Nautilus was first closed, 
and fastened down by means of a false key, with which 
Ned Land had provided himself; the opening in the boat 
was also closed. The Canadian began to loosen the bolts 
which still held us to the submarine boat. 

Suddenly a noise was heard. Voices were answering each 
other loudly. What was the matter? Had they discovered 
our flight? I felt Ned Land slipping a dagger into my hand. 

“Yes,” I murmured, “we know how to die I” 

The Canadian had stopped in his work. But one word 
many times repeated, a dreadful word, revealed the cause 
of the agitation spreading on board the Nautilus, It was 
not we the crew were looking after 1 

“The maelstrom ! the maelstrom ! Could a more dreadful 
word in a more dreadful situation have sounded in our ears I 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 291 

We were then upon the dangerous coast of Norway. Was the 
Nautilus being drawn into this gulf at the moment our boat 
was going to leave its sides? We knew that at the tide the 
pent-up waters between the islands of Ferroe and Loffoden 
rush with irresistible violence, forming a whirlpool from 
which no vessel ever escapes. From every point of the horizon 
enormous waves were meeting, forming a gulf justly called 
the ‘‘Navel of the Ocean,” whose power of attraction extends 
to a distance of twelve miles. There, not only vessels, but 
whales are sacrificed, as well as white bears from the north- 
ern regions. 

It is thither that the Nautilus, voluntarily or involun- 
tarily, had been run by the Captain. 

It was describing a spiral, the circumference of which was 
lessening by degrees, and the boat, which was still fastened 
to its side, was carried along with giddy speed. I felt that 
sickly giddiness which arises from long-continued whirling 
round. 

We were in dread. Our horror was at its height, circula- 
tion had stopped, all nervous influence was annihilated, and 
we were covered with cold sweat, like a sweat of agony! 
And what noise around our frail bark! What roarings re- 
peated by the echo miles away! What an uproar was that 
of the waters broken on the sharp rocks at the bottom, where 
the hardest bodies are crushed, and trees worn awa}^, “with 
all the fur rubbed off,” according to the Norwegian phrase! 

What a situation to be in! We rocked frightfully. The 
Nautilus defended itself like a human being. Its steel muscles 
cracked. Sometimes it seemed to stand upright, and we 
with it ! 

“We must hold on,” said Ned, “and look after the bolts. 
We may still be saved if we stick to the Nautilus.’^ 

He had not finished the words, when we heard a crashing 
noise, the bolts gave way, and the boat, torn from its groove, 
was hurled like a stone from a sling into the midst of the 
whirlpool. 

My head struck on a piece of iron, and with the violent 
shock I lost all consciousness. 


292 TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 


CHAPTER XXIII 

CONCLUSION 

T HUS ends the voyage under the seas. What passed during 
that night — how the boat escaped from the eddies of the 
maelstrom — how Ned Land, Conseil, and myself ever came 
out of the gulf, I cannot tell. 

But when I returned to consciousness, I was lying in a 
fisherman’s hut, on the Loffoden Isles. My two companions, 
safe and sound, were near me holding my hands. We em- 
braced each other heartily. 

At that moment we could not think of returning to 
France. The means of communication between the north of 
Norway and the south are rare. And I am therefore obliged 
to wait for the steamboat running monthly from Cape North. 

And, among the worthy people who have so kindly re- 
ceived us, I revise my record of these adventures once more. 
Not a fact has been omitted, not a detail exaggerated. It is 
a faithful narrative of this incredible expedition in an ele- 
ment inaccessible to man, but to which Progress will one 
day open a road. 

Shall I be believed.? I do not know. And it matters little, 
after all. What I now affirm is, that I have a right to speak 
of these seas, under which, in less than ten months, I have 
crossed 20,000 leagues in that submarine tour of the world, 
which has revealed so many wonders. 

But what has become of the Nautilus? Did it resist the 
pressure of the maelstrom.? Does Captain Nemo still live.? 
And does he still follow under the ocean those frightful 
retaliations .? Or, did he stop after the last hecatomb ? 

Will the waves one day carry to him this manuscript 
containing the history of his life.? Shall I ever know the 
name of this man.? Will the missing vessel tell us by its 
nationality that of Captain Nemo.? 

I hope so. And I also hope that his powerful vessel has 
conquered the sea at its most terrible gulf, and that the 
Nautilus has survived where so many other vessels have 
been lost! If it be so — if Captain Nemo still inhabits the 


TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA 293 

ocean, his adopted country, may hatred be appeased in that 
savage heart! May the contemplation of so many wonders 
extinguish for ever the spirit of vengeance! May the judge 
disappear, and the philosopher continue the peaceful ex- 
ploration of the sea ! If his destiny be strange, it is also sub- 
lime. Have I not understood it myself.? Have I not lived 
ten months of this unnatural life.? And to the question asked 
by Ecclesiastes three thousand years ago, “That which is 
far off and exceeding deep, who can find it out.?” two men 

alone of all now living have the right to give an answer 

Captain Nemo and Myself. 



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AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY 
DAYS 


CHAPTER I 

IN WHICH P.HILEAS FOGG AND PASSEPARTOUT ACCEPT EACH 
OTHER, THE ONE AS MASTER, THE OTHER AS MAN 

IVIr. Phileas Fogg lived, in 1872, at No. 7, Saville Row, 
Burlington Gardens, the house in which Sheridan died in 
1814. He was one of the most noticeable members of the 
Reform Club, though he seemed always to avoid attracting 
attention ; an enigmatical personage, about whom little was 
known, except that he was a polished man of the world. 
People said that he resembled Byron — at least that his head 
was Byronic; but he was a bearded, tranquil Byron, who 
might live on a thousand years without growing old. 

Certainly an Englishman, it was more doubtful whether 
Phileas Fogg was a Londoner. He was never seen on 
’Change, nor at the Bank, nor in the counting-rooms of the 
‘‘City” ; no ships ever came into London docks of which he 
was the owner ; he had no public employment ; he had never 
been entered at any of the Inns of Court, either at the 
Temple, or Lincoln’s Inn, or Gray’s Inn ; nor had his voice 
ever resounded in the Court of Chancery, or in the Ex- 
chequer, or the Queen’s Bench, or the Ecclesiastical Courts. 
He certainly was not a manufacturer; nor was he a mer- 
chant or a gentleman farmer. His name was strange to the 
scientific and learned societies, and he never was known to 
take part in the sage deliberations of the Royal Institution 
or the London Institution, the Artisan’s Association, or the 
Institution of Arts and Sciences. He belonged, in fact, to 
none of the numerous societies which swarm in the English 
capital, from the Harmonic to that of the Entomologists, 
founded mainly for the purpose of abolishing pernicious 
insects. 

Phileas Fogg was a member of the Reform, and that 
was all. 


297 


298 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

The way in which he got admission to this exclusive club 
was simple enough. 

He was recommended by the Barings, with whom he had 
an open credit. His cheques were regularly paid at sight 
from his account current, which was always flush. 

Was Phileas Fogg rich.^^ Undoubtedly. But those who 
knew him best could not imagine how he had made his for- 
tune, and Mr. Fogg was the last person to whom to apply 
for the information. He was not lavish, nor, on the contrary, 
avaricious; for, whenever he knew that money was needed 
for a noble, useful, or benevolent purpose, he supplied it 
quietly and sometimes anonymously. He was, in short, the 
least communicative of men. He talked very little, and 
seemed all the more mysterious for his taciturn manner. His 
daily habits were quite open to observation ; but whatever he 
did was so exactly the same thing that he had always done 
before, that the wits of the curious were fairly puzzled. 

Had he travelled.^ It was likely, for no one seemed to 
know the world more familiarly; there was no spot so se- 
cluded that he did not appear to have an intimate acquaint- 
ance with it. He often corrected, with a few clear words, the 
thousand conjectures advanced by members of the club as 
to lost and unheard-of travellers, pointing out the true prob- 
abilities, and seeming as if gifted with a sort of second sight, 
so often did events justify his predictions. He must have 
travelled everywhere, at least in the spirit. 

It was at least certain that Phileas Fogg had not absented 
himself from London for many years. Those who were hon- 
oured by a better acquaintance with him than the rest, de- 
clared that nobody could pretend to have ever seen him 
anywhere else. His sole pastimes were reading the papers 
and playing whist. He often won at this game, which, as a 
silent one, harmonised with his nature; but his winnings 
never went into his purse, being reserved as a fund for his 
charities. Mr. Fogg played, not to win, but for the sake of 
playing. The game was in his eyes a contest, a struggle with 
a difficulty, yet a motionless, unwearying struggle, con- 
genial to his tastes. 

Phileas Fogg was not known to have either wife or chil- 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 299 

dren, which may happen to the most honest people; either 
relatives or near friends, which is certainly more unusual. 
He lived alone in his house in Saville Row, whither none 
penetrated. A single domestic sufficed to serve him. He 
breakfasted and dined at the club, at hours mathematically 
fixed, in the same room, at the same table, never taking his 
meals with other members, much less bringing a guest with 
him; and went home at exactly midnight, only to retire at 
once to bed. He never used the cosy chambers which the Re- 
form provides for its favoured members. He passed ten 
hours out of the twenty-four in Saville Row, either in sleep- 
ing or making his toilet. When he chose to take a walk it 
was with a regular step in the entrance hall with its mosaic 
flooring, or in the circular gallery with its dome supported 
by twenty red porphyry Ionic columns, and illumined by 
blue painted windows. When he breakfasted or dined all the 
resources of the club — its kitchens and pantries, its buttery 
and dairy — aided to crowd his table with their most succu- 
lent stores ; he was served by the gravest waiters, in dress 
coats, and shoes with swan-skin soles, who proffered the 
viands in special porcelain, and on the finest linen; club 
decanters, of a lost mould, contained his sherry, his port, 
and his cinnamon-spiced claret ; while his beverages were 
refreshingly cooled with ice, brought at great cost from the 
American lakes. 

If to live in this style is to be eccentric, it must be con- 
fessed that there is something good in eccentricity. 

The mansion in Saville Row, though not sumptuous, was 
exceedingly comfortable. The habits of its occupant were 
such as to demand but little from the sole domestic, but 
Phileas Fogg required him to be almost superhumanly 
prompt and regular. On this very 2nd of October he had 
dismissed James Forster, because that luckless youth had 
brought him shaving-water at eighty-four degrees Fahren- 
heit instead of eighty-six ; and he was awaiting his successor, 
who was due at the house between eleven and half-past. 

Phileas Fogg was seated squarely in his armchair, his 
feet close together like those of a grenadier on parade, his 


300 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

hands resting on his knees, his body straight, his head erect ; 
he was steadily watching a complicated clock which indi- 
cated the hours, the minutes, the seconds, the days, the 
months, and the years. At exactly half-past eleven Mr. Fogg 
would, according to his daily habit, quit Saville Row, and 
repair to the Reform. 

A rap at this moment sounded on the door of the cosy 
apartment where Phileas Fogg was seated, and James 
Forster, the dismissed servant, appeared. 

“The new servant,” said he. 

A young man of thirty advanced and bowed. 

“You are a Frenchman, I believe,” asked Phileas Fogg, 
“and your name is John.^” 

“Jean, if monsieur pleases,” replied the newcomer, “Jean 
Passepartout, a surname which has clung to me because I 
have a natural aptness for going out of one business into 
another. I believe I’m honest, monsieur, but, to be out- 
spoken, I’ve had several trades. I’ve been an itinerant 
singer, a circus-rider, when I used to vault like Leotard, 
and dance on a rope like Blondin. Then I got to be a pro- 
fessor of gymnastics, so as to make better use of my talents ; 
and then I was a sergeant fireman at Paris, and assisted at 
many a big fire. But I quitted France five years ago, and, 
wishing to taste the sweets of domestic life, took service as 
a valet here in England. Finding myself out of place, and 
hearing that Monsieur Phileas Fogg was the most exact 
and settled gentleman in the United Kingdom, I have come 
to monsieur in the hope of living with him a tranquil life, 
and forgetting even the name of Passepartout.” 

“Passepartout suits me,” responded Mr. Fogg. “You are 
well recommended to me ; I hear a good report of you. You 
know my conditions 

“Yes, monsieur.” 

“Good! What time is it.^^” 

“Twenty-two minutes after eleven,” returned Passepar- 
tout, drawing an enormous silver watch from the depths of 
his pocket. 

“You are too slow,” said Mr. Fogg. 


301 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

‘Tardon me, monsieur, it is impossible ” 

“You are four minutes too slow. No matter; it’s enough 
to mention the error. Now from this moment, twenty-nine 
minutes after eleven, a.m., this Wednesday, 2nd October, 
you are in my service.” 

Phileas Fogg got up, took his hat in his left hand, put it 
on his head with an automatic motion, and went off without 
a word. 

P assepartout heard the street door shut once ; it was his 
new master going out. He heard it shut again ; it was his 
predecessor, James Forster, departing in his turn. Passe- 
partout remained alone in the house in Saville Row. 


CHAPTER II 

IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT IS CONVINCED THAT HE HAS AT 
LAST FOUND HIS IDEAL 

Faith,” muttered Passepartout, somewhat flurried, “I’ve 
seen people at Madame Tussaud’s as lively as my new 
master !” 

Madame Tussaud’s “people,” let it be said, are of wax, 
and are much visited in London ; speech is all that is want- 
ing to make them human. 

During his brief interview with Mr. Fogg, Passepartout 
had been carefully observing him. He appeared to be a 
man about forty years of age, with fine, handsome features, 
and a tall, well-shaped figure; his hair and whiskers were 
light, his forehead compact and unwrinkled, his face rather 
pale, his teeth magnificent. His countenance possessed in 
the highest degree what physiognomists call “repose in ac- 
tion,” a quality of those who act rather than talk. Calm 
and phlegmatic, with a clear eye, Mr. Fogg seemed a per- 
fect type of that English composure which Angelica Kauff- 
mann has so skilfully represented on canvas. Seen in the 
various phases of his daily life, he gave the idea of being 
perfectly well-balanced, as exactly regulated as a Leroy 


302 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

chronometer. Phileas Fogg was, indeed, exactitude personi- 
fied, and this was betrayed even in the expression of his very 
hands and feet; for in men, as well as in animals, the limbs 
themselves are expressive of the passions. 

He was so exact that he was never in a hurry, was always 
ready, and was economical alike of his steps and his mo- 
tions. He never took one step too many, and always went 
to his destination by the shortest cut; he made no super- 
fluous gestures, and was never seen to be moved or agitated. 
He was the most deliberate person in the world, yet always 
reached his destination at the exact moment. 

He lived alone, and, so to speak, outside of every social 
relation ; and as he knew that in this world account must be 
taken of friction, and that friction retards, he never rubbed 
against anybody. 

As for Passepartout, he was a true Parisian of Paris. 
Since he had abandoned his own country for England, tak- 
ing service as a valet, he had in vain searched for a master 
after his own heart. Passepartout was by no means one of 
those pert dunces depicted by Moliere, with a bold gaze and 
a nose held high in the air ; he was an honest fellow, with a 
pleasant face, lips a trifle protruding, soft-mannered and 
serviceable, with a good round head, such as one likes to 
see on the shoulders of a friend. His eyes were blue, his 
complexion rubicund, his figure almost portly and well-built, 
his body muscular, and his physical powers fully developed 
by the exercises of his younger days. His brown hair was 
somewhat tumbled ; for, while the ancient sculptors are said 
to have known eighteen methods of arranging Minerva’s 
tresses. Passepartout was familiar with but one of dressing 
his own: three strokes of a large-tooth comb completed his 
toilet. 

It would be rash to predict how Passepartout’s lively na- 
ture would agree with Mr. Fogg. It was impossible to tell 
whether the new servant would turn out as absolutely 
methodical as his master required; experience alone could 
solve the question. Passepartout had been a sort of vagrant 
in his early years, and now yearned for repose ; but so far 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 303 

he had failed to find it, tliough he had already served in 
ten English houses. But he could not take root in any of 
these; with chagrin, he found his masters invariably whim- 
sical and irregular, constantly running about the country, 
or on the look-out for adventure. His last master, young 
Lord Longferry, Member of Parliament, after passing his 
nights in the Haymarket taverns, was too often brought 
home in the morning on policemen’s shoulders. Passepar- 
tout, desirous of respecting the gentleman whom he served, 
ventured a mild remonstrance on such conduct; which, be- 
ing ill-received, he took his leave. Hearing that Mr. Phileas 
Fogg was looking for a servant, and that his life was one 
of unbroken regularity, that he neither travelled nor stayed 
from home overnight, he felt sure that this would be the 
place he was after. He presented himself, and was accepted, 
as has been seen. 

At half-past eleven, then, Passepartout found himself 
alone in the house in Saville Row. He begun its inspection 
without delay, scouring it from cellar to garret. So clean, 
well-arranged, solemn a mansion pleased him; it seemed to 
him like a snail’s shell, lighted and warmed by gas, which 
sufficed for both these purposes. When Passepartout reached 
the second story he recognised at once the room which he 
was to inhabit, and he was well satisfied with it. Electric 
bells and speaking-tubes afforded communication with the 
lower stories ; while on the mantel stood an electric clock, 
precisely like that in Mr. Fogg’s bedchamber, both beating 
the same second at the same instant. “That’s good, that’ll 
do,” said Passepartout to himself. 

He suddenly observed, hung over the clock, a card which, 
upon inspection, proved to be a programme of the daily 
routine of the house. It comprised all that was required of 
the servant, from eight in the morning, exactly at which 
hour Phileas Fogg rose, till half-past eleven, when he left 
the house for the Reform Club — all the details of service, 
the tea and toast at twenty-three minutes past eight, the 
shaving-water at thirty-seven minutes past nine, and the 
toilet at twenty minutes before ten. Everything was regu- 


304 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

lated and foreseen that was to be done from half-past eleven 
a.m. till midnight, the hour at which the methodical gentle- 
man retired. 

Mr. Fogg’s wardrobe was amply supplied and in the best 
taste. Each pair of trousers, coat, and vest bore a number, 
indicating the time of year and season at which they were 
in turn to be laid out for wearing ; and the same system was 
applied to the master’s shoes. In short, the house in Saville 
Row, which must have been a very temple of disorder and 
unrest under the illustrious but dissipated Sheridan, was 
cosiness, comfort, and method idealised. There was no study, 
nor were there books, which would have been quite useless 
to Mr. Fogg; for at the Reform two libraries, one of gen- 
eral literature and the other of law and politics, were at his 
service. A moderate-sized safe stood in his bedroom, con- 
structed so as to defy fire as well as burglars ; but Passe- 
partout found neither arms nor hunting weapons anywhere ; 
everything betrayed the most tranquil and peaceable habits. 

Having scrutinised the house from top to bottom, he 
rubbed his hands, a broad smile overspread his features, and 
he said joyfully, “This is just what I wanted! Ah, we shall 
get on together, Mr. Fogg and I! What a domestic and 
regular gentleman ! A real machine ; well, I don’t mind serv- 
ing a machine.” 


CHAPTER III 

IN WHICH A CONVERSATION TAKES PLACE WHICH SEEMS 
LIKELY TO COST PHILEAS FOGG DEAR 

P HiLEAs Fogg, having shut the door of his house at half- 
past eleven, and having put his right foot before his left 
five hundred and seventy-five times, and his left foot before 
his right five hundred and seventy-six times, reached the 
Reform Club, an imposing edifice in Pall Mall, which could 
not have cost less than three millions. He repaired at once 
to the dining-room, the nine windows of which open upon a 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 805 

tasteful garden, where the trees were already gilded with 
an autumn colouring; and took his place at the habitual 
table, the cover of which had already been laid for him. His 
breakfast consisted of a side-dish, a broiled fish with Read- 
ing sauce, a scarlet slice of roast beef garnished with, mush- 
rooms, a rhubarb and gooseberry tart, and a morsel of 
Cheshire cheese, the whole being washed down with several 
cups of tea, for which the Reform is famous. He rose at thir- 
teen minutes to one, and directed his steps towards the large 
hall, a sumptuous apartment adorned with lavishly-framed 
paintings. A flunkey handed him an uncut Times^ which he 
proceeded to cut with a skill which betrayed familiarity with 
this delicate operation. The perusal of this paper absorbed 
Phileas Fogg until a quarter before four, whilst the Stand- 
ard^ his next task, occupied him till the dinner hour. Dinner 
passed as breakfast had done, and Mr. Fogg re-appeared 
in the reading-room and sat down to the Fall Mall at twenty 
minutes before six. Half an hour later several members of 
the Reform came in and drew up to the fireplace, where a 
coal fire was steadily burning. They Avere Mr. Fogg’s usual 
partners at whist: Andrew Stuart, an engineer; John Sulli- 
van and Samuel Fallentin, bankers; Thomas Flanagan, a 
brewer; and Gauthier Ralph, one of the Directors of the 
Bank of England — all rich and highly respectable person- 
ages, even in a club which comprises the princes of English 
trade and finance. 

“Well, Ralph,” said Thomas Flanagan, “what about 
that robbery.?” 

“Oh,” replied Stuart, “the Bank will lose the money.” 

“On the contrary,” broke in Ralph, “I hope we may put 
our hands on the robber. Skilful detectives have been sent 
to all the principal ports of America and the Continent, and 
he’ll be a clever fellow if he slips through their fingers.” 

“But have you got the robber’s description.?” asked 
Stuart. 

“In the first place, he is no robber at all,” returned 
Ralph, positively. 

“What! a fellow who makes off with fifty-five thousand 
pounds, no robber.?” 


306 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

“No.” 

“Perhaps he’s a manufacturer, then.” 

“The Daily Telegraph says that he is a gentleman.” 

It was Phileas Fogg, whose head now emerged from be- 
hind his newspapers, who made this remark. He bowed 
to his friends, and entered into the conversation. The affair 
which formed its subject, and which was town talk, had 
occurred three days before at the Bank of England. A pack- 
age of banknotes, to the value of fifty-five thousand pounds, 
had been taken from the principal cashier’s table, that 
functionary being at the moment engaged in registering 
the receipt of three shillings and sixpence. Of course, he 
could not have his eyes everywhere. Let it be observed that 
the Bank of England reposes a touching confidence in the 
honesty of the public. There are neither guards nor gratings 
to protect its treasures; gold, silver, banknotes are freely 
exposed, at the mercy of the first comer. A keen observer 
of English customs relates that, being in one of the rooms 
of the Bank one day, he had the curiosity to examine a gold 
ingot weighing some seven or eight pounds. He took it up, 
scrutinised it, passed it to his neighbour, he to the next 
man, and so on until the ingot, going from hand to hand, 
was transferred to the end of a dark entry; nor did it re- 
turn to its place for half an hour. Meanwhile, the cashier 
had not so much as raised his head. But in the present in- 
stance things had not gone so smoothly. The package of 
notes not being found when five o’clock sounded from the 
ponderous clock in the “drawing office,” the amount was 
passed to the account of profit and loss. As soon as the 
robbery was discovered, picked detectives hastened off to 
Liverpool, Glasgow, Havre, Suez, Brindisi, New York, and 
other ports, inspired by the proffered reward of two thou- 
sand pounds, and five per cent, on the sum that might be 
recovered. Detectives were also charged with narrowly 
watching those who arrived at or left London by rail, and 
a judicial examination was at once entered upon. 

There were real grounds for supposing, as the Daily Tele- 
graph said, that the thief did not belong to a professional 
band. On the day of the robbery a well-dressed gentleman 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 807 

of polished manners, and with a well-to-do air, had heen 
observed going to and fro in the paying-room, where the 
crime was committed. A description of him was easily pro- 
cured and sent to the detectives; and some hopeful spirits, 
of whom Ralph was one, did not despair of his apprehen- 
sion. The papers and clubs were full of the affair, and 
everywhere people were discussing the probabilities of a suc- 
cessful pursuit; and the Reform Club was especially agi- 
tated, several of its members being Bank officials. 

Ralph would not concede that the work of the detectives 
was likely to be in vain, for he thought that the prize offered 
would greatly stimulate their zeal and activity. But Stuart 
was far from sharing this confidence; and, as they placed 
themselves at the whist-table, they continued to argue the 
matter. Stuart and Flanagan played together, while Phileas 
Fogg had Fallentin for his partner. As the game proceeded 
the conversation ceased, excepting between the rubbers, 
when it revived again. 

“I maintain,” said Stuart, “that the chances are in favour 
of the thief, who must be a shrewd fellow.” 

“Well, but where can he fly to.?” asked Ralph. “No 
country is safe for him.” 

“Pshaw !” 

“Where could he go, then.?” 

“Oh, I don’t know that. The world is big enough.” 

“It was once,” said Phileas Fogg, in a low tone. “Cut, 
sir,” he added, handing the cards to Thomas Flanagan. 

The discussion fell during the rubber, after which Stuart 
took up its thread. 

“What do you mean by ‘once’.? Has the world grown 
smaller .?” 

“Certainly,” returned Ralph. “I agree with Mr. Fogg. 
The world has, grown smaller, since a man can now go 
round it ten times more quickly than a hundred years ago. 
And that is why the search for this thief will be more likely 
to succeed.” 

“And also why the thief can get away more easily.” 

“Be so good as to play, Mr. Stuart,” said Phileas Fogg. 


308 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 


But the incredulous Stuart was not convinced, and when 
the hand was finished, said eagerly: “You have a strange 
way, Ralph, of proving that the world has grown smaller. 

So, because you can go round it in three months ” 

“In eighty days,” interrupted Phileas Fogg. 

“That is true, gentlemen,” added John Sullivan. “Only 
eighty days, now that the section between Rothal and Alla- 
habad, on the Great Indian Peninsula Railway, has been 
opened. Here is the estimate made by the Daily Telegraph’. 


From London to Suez via Mont Cenis and 
Brindisi, by rail and steamboats 
From Suez to Bombay, by steamer 
From Bombay to Calcutta, by rail 
From Calcutta to Hong Kong, by steamer • 
From Hong Kong to Yokohama (Japan), by 
steamer ...... 

From Yokohama to San Francisco, by 
steamer 

From San Francisco to New York, by rail . 
From New York to London, by steamer and 
rail ...... 


7 days 
13 “ 

3 “ 

13 “ 

6 “ 

22 “ 

9 “ 


Total 80 days.” 

“Yes, in eighty days!” exclaimed Stuart, who in his ex- 
citement made a false deal. “But that doesn’t take into ac- 
count bad weather, contrary winds, shipwrecks, railway 
accidents, and so on.” 

“All included,” returned Phileas Fogg, continuing to play 
despite the discussion. 

“But suppose the Hindoos or Indians pull up the rails,” 
replied Stuart; “suppose they stop the trains, pillage the 
luggage-vans, and scalp the passengers!” 

“All included,” calmly retorted Fogg; adding, as he 
threw down the cards, “Two trumps.” 

Stuart, whose turn it was to deal, gathered them up, and 
went on: “You are right, theoretically, Mr. Fogg, but 
pratically ” 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 309 

‘‘Practically also, Mr. Stuart.” 

“I’d like to see you do it in eighty days.” 

“It depends on you. Shall we go?’’ 

“Heaven preserve me ! But I would wager four thousand 
pounds that such a journey, made under these conditions, 
is impossible.” 

“Quite possible, on the contrary,” returned Mr. Fogg. 

“Well, make it, then!” 

“The journey round the world in eightv davs?” 

“Yes.” 

“I should like nothing better.” 

“When.?” 

“At once. Only I warn you that I shall do it at your 
expense.” 

“It’s absurd I” cried Stuart, who was beginning to be an- 
noyed at the persistency of his friend. “Come, let’s go on 
with the game.” 

“Deal over again, then,” said Phileas Fogg. “There’s 
a false deal.” 

Stuart took up the pack with a feverish hand; then sud- 
denly put them down again. 

“Well, Mr. Fogg,” said he, “it shall be so: I will wager 
the four thousand on it.” 

“Calm yourself, my dear Stuart,” said Fallentin. “It’s 
only a joke.” 

“When I say I’ll wager,” returned Stuart, “I mean it.” 

“All right,” said Mr. Fogg; and, turning to the others, 
he continued: “I have a deposit of twenty thousand at 
Baring’s which I will willingly risk upon it.” 

“Twenty thousand pounds!” cried Sullivan. “Twenty 
thousand pounds, which you would lose by a single acci- 
dental delay!” 

“The unforeseen does not exist,” quietly replied Phileas 
Fogg. 

“But, Mr. Fogg, eighty days are only the estimate of the 
least possible time in which the journey can be made.” 

“A well-used minimum suffices for everything.” 

“But, in order not to exceed it, you must jump mathe- 


310 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

matically from the trains upon the steamers, and from the 
steamers upon the trains again.” 

“I will jump — mathematically.” 

“You are joking.” 

“A true Englishman doesn’t joke when he is talking 
about so serious a thing as a wager,” replied Phileas Fogg, 
solemnly. “I will bet twenty thousand pounds against any- 
one who wishes that I will make the tour of the world in 
eighty days or less; in nineteen hundred and twenty hours, 
or a hundred and fifteen thousand two hundred minutes. 
Do you accept.?” 

“We accept,” replied Messrs. Stuart, Fallentin, Sullivan, 
Flanagan, and Ralph, after consulting each other. 

“Good,” said Mr. Fogg. “The train leaves for Dover at 
a quarter before nine. I will take it.” 

“This very evening.?” asked Stuart. 

“This very evening,” returned Phileas Fogg. He took out 
and consulted a pocket almanac, and added, “As today is 
Wednesday, the Snd of October, I shall be due in London, 
in this very room of the Reform Club, on Saturday, the ^Ist 
of December, at a quarter before nine p.m. ; or else the 
twenty thousand pounds, now deposited in my name at Bar- 
ing’s, mil belong to you, in fact and in right, gentlemen. 
Here is a cheque for the amount.” 

A memorandum of the wager was at once drawn up and 
signed by the six parties, during which Phileas Fogg pre- 
served a stoical composure. He certainly did not bet to win, 
and had only staked the twenty thousand pounds, half of 
his fortune, because he foresaw that he might have to expend 
the other half to carry out this difficult, not to say unat- 
tainable, project. As for his antagonists, they seemed much 
agitated; not so much by the value of their stake, as be- 
cause they had some scruples about betting under conditions 
so difficult to their friend. 

The clock struck seven, and the party offered to suspend 
the game so that Mr. Fogg might make his preparations 
for departure. 

“I am quite ready now,” was his tranquil response. 
“Diamonds are trumps: be so good as to play, gentlemen,” 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 311 


CHAPTEB IV 

IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG ASTOUNDS PASSEPARTOUT, 

HIS SERVANT 

Having won twenty guineas at whist, and taken leave of 
his friends, Phileas Pogg, at twenty-five minutes past seven, 
left the Reform Club. 

Passepartout, who had conscientiously studied the pro- 
gramme of his duties, was more than surprised to see his 
master guilty of the inexactness of appearing at this un- 
accustomed hour; for, according to rule, he was not due in 
Saville Row until precisely midnight. 

Mr. Fogg repaired to his bedroom, and called out, 
^‘Passepartout !” 

Passepartout did not reply. It could not be he who was 
called; it was not the right hour. 

“Passepartout!” repeated Mr. Fogg, without raising his 
voice. 

Passepartout made his appearance. 

“I’ve called you twice,” observed his master. 

“But it is not midnight,” responded the other, showing 
his watch. 

“I know it; I don’t blame you. We start for Dover and 
Calais in ten minutes.” 

A puzzled grin overspread Passepartout’s round face; 
clearly he had not comprehended his master. 

“Monsieur is going to leave home.^” 

“Yes,” returned Phileas Fogg. “We are going round the 
world.” 

Passepartout opened wide his eyes, raised his eyebrows, 
held up his hands, and seemed about to collapse, so over- 
come was he with stupefied astonishment. 

“Round the world!” he murmured. 

“In eighty days,” responded Mr. Fogg. “So we haven’t 
a moment to lose.” 

“But the trunks gasped Passepartout, unconsciously 
swaying his head from right to left. 

“We’ll have no trunks ; only a carpet-bag, with two shirts 


312 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

and three pairs of stockings for me, and the same for you. 
We’ll buy our clothes on the way. Bring down my mackin- 
tosh and travelling-cloak, and some stout shoes, though we 
shall do little walking. Make haste!” 

Passepartout tried to reply, but could not. He went out^ 
mounted to his own room, fell into a chair, and muttered: 
‘‘That’s good, that is I And I, who wanted to remain quiet I” 

He mechanically set about making the preparations for 
departure. Around the world in eighty days! Was his mas- 
ter a fool.? No. Was this a joke, then.? They were going 
to Dover; good! To Calais; good again! After all. Passe- 
partout, who had been away from France five years, would 
not be sorry to set foot on his native soil again. Perhaps 
they would go as far as Paris, and it would do his eyes good 
to see Paris once more. But surely a gentleman so chary of 
his steps would stop there; no doubt — but, then, it was 
none the less true that he was going away, this so domestic 
person hitherto! 

By eight o’clock Passepartout had packed the modest 
carpet-bag, containing the wardrobes of his master and 
himself ; then, still troubled in mind, he carefully shut the 
door of his room, and descended to Mr. Fogg. 

Mr. Fogg was quite ready. Under his arm might have 
been observed a red-bound copy of Bradshaw^s Continental 
Railway Steam Tramit and General Guide ^ with its time- 
tables showing the arrival and departure of steamers and 
railways. He took the carpet-bag, opened it, and slipped 
into it a goodly roll of Bank of England notes, which would 
pass wherever he might go. 

“You have forgotten nothing.?” asked he. 

“Nothing, monsieur.” 

“My mackintosh and cloak.?” 

“Here they are.” 

“Good! Take this carpet-bag,” handing it to Passepar- 
tout. “Take good care of it, for there are twenty thousand 
pounds in it.” 

Passepartout nearly dropped the bag, as if the twenty 
thousand pounds were in gold, and weighed him down. 

Master and man then descended, the street-door was 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS SIS 

double-locked, and at the end of Saville Row they took a 
cab and drove rapidly to Charing Cross. The cab stopped 
before the railway station at twenty minutes past eight. 
Passepartout jumped olf the box and followed his master, 
who, after paying the cabman, was about to enter the sta- 
tion, when a poor beggar-woman, with a child in her arms, 
her naked feet smeared with mud, her head covered with a 
wretched bonnet, from which hung a tattered feather, and 
her shoulders shrouded in a ragged shawl, approached, and 
mournfully asked for alms. 

Mr. Fogg took out the twenty guineas he had just won 
at whist, and handed them to the beggar, saying, “Here, 
my good woman. I’m glad that I met you” ; and passed on. 

Passepartout had a moist sensation about the eyes; his 
master’s action touched his susceptible heart. 

Two first-class tickets for Paris having been speedily 
purchased, Mr. Fogg was crossing the station to the train, 
when he perceived his five friends of the Reform. 

“Well, gentlemen,” said he, “I’m off, you see; and, if 
you will examine my passport when I get back, you will 
be able to judge whether I have accomplished the journey 
agreed upon.” 

“Oh, that would be quite unnecessary, Mr. Fogg,” said 
Ralph politely. “We will trust your word, as a gentleman 
of honour.” 

“You do not forget when you are due in London again 
asked Stuart. 

“In eighty days; on Saturday, the 21st of December, 
1872, at a quarter before nine p.m. Good-bye, gentlemen.” 

Phileas Fogg and his servant seated themselves in a first- 
class carriage at twenty minutes before nine; five minutes 
later the whistle screamed, and the train slowly glided out 
of the station. 

The night was dark, and a fine, steady rain was falling. 
Phileas Fogg, snugly ensconced in his corner, did not open 
his lips. Passepartout, not yet recovered from his stupe- 
faction, clung mechanically to the carpet-bag, with its enor- 
mous treasure. 


314 < AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 


Just as the train was whirling through Sydenham, Passe- 
partout suddenly uttered a cry of despair. 

‘‘What’s the matter asked Mr. Fogg. 

“Alas! In my hurry — I — I forgot ” 

“What.?” 

“To turn off the gas in my room!” 

“Very well, young man,” returned Mr. Fogg, coolly; “it 
will burn — at your expense.” 


CHAPTER V 

IN WHICH A NEW^ SPECIES OF FUNDS, UNKNOWN TO THE 
MONEYED MEN, APPEARS ON ’CHANGE 

P HiLEAS Fogg rightly suspected that his departure from 
London would create a lively sensation at the West End. 
The news of the bet spread through the Reform Club, and 
afforded an exciting topic of conversation to its members. 
From the club it soon got into the papers throughout Eng- 
land. The boasted “tour of the world” was talked about, 
disputed, argued with as much warmth as if the subject 
were another Alabama claim. Some took sides with Phileas 
Fogg, but the large majority shook their heads and declared 
against him; it was absurd, impossible, they declared, that 
the tour of the world could be made, except theoretically 
and on paper, in this minimum of time, and with the exist- 
ing means of travelling. The Times, Standard, Morning 
Post, and Daily News, and twenty other highly respectable 
newspapers scouted Mr. Fogg’s project as madness; the 
Daily Telegraph alone hesitatingly supported him. People 
in general thought him a lunatic, and blamed his Reform 
Club friends for having accepted a wager which betrayed 
the mental aberration of its proposer. 

Articles no less passionate than logical appeared on the 
question, for geography is one of the pet subjects of the 
English ; and the columns devoted to Phileas Fogg’s venture 
were eagerly devoured by all classes of readers. At first 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 315 

some rash individuals, principally of the gentler sex, es- 
poused his cause, which became still more popular when 
the Illustrated London News came out with his portrait, 
copied from a photograph in the Reform Club. A few 
readers of the Daily Telegraph even dared to say, “Why 
not, after all.^^ Stranger things have come to pass.” 

At last a long article appeared, on the 7th of October, 
in the bulletin of the Royal Geographical Society, which 
treated the question from every point of view, and demon- 
strated the utter folly of the enterprise. 

Everything, it said, was against the travellers, every ob- 
stacle imposed alike by man and by nature. A miraculous 
agreement of the times of departure and arrival, which was 
impossible, was absolutely necessary to his success. He 
might, perhaps, reckon on the arrival of trains at the desig- 
nated hours, in Europe, where the distances were relatively 
moderate; but when he calculated upon crossing India in 
three days, and the United States in seven, could he rely 
beyond misgiving upon accomplisliing his task.^ There were 
accidents to machinery, the liability of trains to run off the 
line, collisions, bad weather, the blocking up by snow — were 
not all these against Phileas Fogg.? Would he not find him- 
self, when travelling by steamer in winter, at the mercy of 
the winds and fogs.? Is it uncommon for the best ocean 
steamers to be two or three days behind time.? But a single 
delay would suffice to fatally break the chain of communica- 
tion; should Phileas Fogg once miss, even by an hour, a 
steamer, he would have to wait for the next, and that would 
irrevocably render his attempt vain. 

This article made a great deal of noise, and, being copied 
into all the papers, seriously depressed the advocates of the 
rash tourist. 

Everybody knows that England is the world of betting 
men, who are of a higher class than mere gamblers ; to bet is 
in the English temperament. Not only the members of the 
Reform, but the general public, m.ade heavy wagers for or 
against Phileas Fogg, who was set down in the betting books 
as if he were a race-horse. Bonds were issued, and made their 


316 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

appearance on ’Change; ‘‘Phileas Fogg bonds” were offered 
at par or at a premium, and a great business was done in 
them. But five days after the article in the bulletin of the 
Geographical Society appeared, the demand began to sub- 
side: ‘‘Phileas Fogg” declined. They were offered by pack- 
ages, at first of five, then of ten, until at last nobody would 
take less than twenty, fifty, a hundred ! 

Lord Albemarle, an elderly paralytic gentleman, was 
now the only advocate of Phileas Fogg left. This noble lord, 
who was fastened to his chair, would have given his fortune 
to be able to make the tour of the world, if it took ten years ; 
and he bet five thousand pounds on Phileas Fogg. When the 
folly as well as the uselessness of the adventure was pointed 
out to him, he contented himself with replying, ‘‘If the thing 
is feasible, the first to do it ought to be an Englishman.” 

The Fogg party dwindled more and more, everybody was 
going against him, and the bets stood a hundred and fifty 
and two hundred to one ; and a week after his departure an 
incident occurred which deprived him of backers at any 
price. 

The commissioner of police was sitting in his office at nine 
o’clock one evening, when the following telegraphic des- 
patch was put into his hands : 

Suez to London. 

Rowan, Commissioner of Police, Scotland Yard: 

I’ve found the bank robber, Phileas Fogg. Send with 

out delay warrant of arrest to Bombay. 

Fix, Detective. 

The effect of this despatch was instantaneous. The pol- 
ished gentleman disappeared to give place to the bank rob- 
ber. His photograph, which was hung with those of the rest 
of the members at the Reform Club, was minutely examined, 
and it betrayed, feature by feature, the description of the 
robber which had been provided to the police. The mysteri- 
ous habits of Phileas Fogg were recalled ; his solitary ways, 
his sudden departure; and it seemed clear that, in under- 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 817 


taking a tour round the world on the pretext of a wager, he 
had had no other end in view than to elude the detectives, 
and throw them off his track. 


CHAPTER VI 

IN WHICH FIX, THE DETECTIVE, BETRAYS A VERY NATURAL 
IMPATIENCE 

T HE circumstances under which this telegraphic despatch 
about Phileas Fogg was sent were as follows: 

The steamer Mongolia^ belonging to the Peninsular and 
Oriental Company, built of iron, of two thousand eight 
hundred tons burden, and five hundred horse-power, was 
due at eleven o’clock a.m. on Wednesday, the 9th of October, 
at Suez. The Mongolm plied regularly between Brindisi and 
Bombay via the Suez Canal, and was one of the fastest 
steamers belonging to the company, always making more 
than ten knots an hour between Brindisi and Suez, and nine 
and a half between Suez and Bombay. 

Two men were promenading up and down the wharves, 
among the crowd of natives and strangers who were so- 
journing at this once straggling village — now, thanks to 
the enterprise of M. Lesseps, a fast-growing town. One was 
the British consul at Suez, who, despite the prophecies of the 
English Government, and the unfavourable predictions of 
Stephenson, was in the habit of seeing, from his office win- 
dow, English ships daily passing to and fro on the great 
canal, by which the old roundabout route from England to 
India by the Cape of Good Hope was abridged by at least 
a half. The other was a small, slight-built personage, with 
a nervous, intelligent face, and bright eyes peering out from 
under eyebrows which he was incessantly twitching. He was 
just now manifesting unmistakable signs of impatience, 
nervously pacing up and down, and unable to stand still for 
a moment. This was Fix, one of the detectives who had been 
despatched from England in search of the bank robber; it 
was his task to narrowly watch every passenger who arrived 


818 AROUND THE WORUD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

at Suez, and to follow up all who seemed to be suspicious 
characters, or bore a resemblance to the description of the 
criminal, which he had received two days before from the 
police headquarters at London. The detective was evidently 
inspired by the hope of obtaining the splendid reward which 
would be the prize of success, and awaited with a feverish 
impatience, easy to understand, the arrival of the steamer 
Mongolia. 

“So you say, consul,” asked he for the twentieth time, 
“that this steamer is never behind time.^” 

“No, Mr. Fix,” replied the consul. “She was bespoken 
yesterday at Port Said, and the rest of the way is of no 
account to such a craft. I repeat that the Mongolia been 
in advance of the time required by the company’s regula- 
tions, and gained the prize awarded for excess of speed.” 

“Does she come directly from Brindisi.^” 

“Directly from Brindisi ; she takes on the Indian mails 
there, and she left there Saturday at five p.m. Have patience, 
Mr. Fix; she will not be late. But really, I don’t see how, 
from the description you have, you will be able to recognise 
your man, even if he is on board the Mongolia.^^ 

“A man rather feels the presence of these fellows, consul, 
than recognises them. You must have a scent for them, and 
a scent is like a sixth sense which combines hearing, seeing, 
and smelling. I’ve arrested more than one of these gentlemen 
in my time, and, if my thief is on board. I’ll answer for it ; 
he’ll not slip through my fingers.” 

“I hope so, Mr. Fix, for it was a heavy robbery.” 

“A magnificent robbery, consul ; fifty-five thousand 
pounds! We don’t often have such windfalls. Burglars are 
getting to be so contemptible nowadays ! A fellow gets hung 
for a handful of shillings !” 

“Mr. Fix,” said the consul, “I like your way of talking, 
and hope you’ll succeed ; but I fear you will find it far from 
easy. Don’t you see, the description which you have there .has 
a singular resemblance to an honest man ?” 

“Consul,” remarked the detective, dogmatically, “great 
robbers always resemble honest folks. Fellows who have ras- 
cally faces have only one course to take, and that is to remain 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 319 

honest; otherwise they would be arrested off-hand. The 
Artistic thing is, to unmask honest countenances ; it’s no light 
♦ask, I admit, but a real art.” 

INIr. Fix evidently was not wanting in a tinge of self- 
conceit. 

Little by little the scene on the quay became more ani- 
mated; sailors of various nations, merchants, ship-brokers, 
porters, fellahs, bustled to and fro as if the steamer were 
immediately expected. The weather was clear, and slightly 
chilly. The minarets of the town loomed above the houses 
in the pale rays of the sun. A jetty pier, some two thousand 
yards along, extended into the roadstead. A number of 
fishing-smacks and coasting boats, some retaining the fan- 
tastic fashion of ancient galleys, were discernible on the 
Red Sea. 

As he passed among the busy crowd. Fix, according to 
habit, scrutinised the passers-by with a keen, rapid glance. 

It was now half-past ten. 

“The steamer doesn’t come!” he exclaimed, as the port 
clock struck. 

“She can’t be far off now,” returned his companion. 

“How long will she stop at Suez.^” 

“Four hours ; long enough to get in her coal. It is thirteen 
hundred and ten miles from Suez to Aden, at the other end 
of the Red Sea, and she has to take in a fresh coal supply.” 

“And does she go from Suez directly to Bombay.?” 

“Without putting in anywhere.” 

“Good!” said Fix. “If the robber is on board he will no 
doubt get off at Suez, so as to reach the Dutch or French 
colonies in Asia by some other route. He ought to know that 
he would not be safe an hour in India, which is English soil.” 

“Unless,” objected the consul, “he is exceptionally shrewd. 
An English criminal, you know, is always better concealed 
in London than anywhere else.” 

This observation furnished the detective food for thought, 
and meanwhile the consul went away to his office. Fix, left 
alone, was more impatient than ever, having a presentiment 
that the robber was on board the Mongolia. If he had indeed 


S20 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

left London intending to reach the New World, he would 
naturally take the route via India, which was less watched 
and more difficult to watch than that of the Atlantic. But 
Fix’s reflections were soon interrupted by a succession of 
sharp whistles, which announced the arrival of the Mongolia. 
The porters and fellahs rushed down the quay, and a dozen 
boats pushed off from the shore to go and meet the steamer. 
Soon her gigantic hull appeared passing along between the 
banks, and eleven o’clock struck as she anchored in the road. 
She brought an unusual number of passengers, some of 
whom remained on deck to scan the picturesque panorama of 
the town, while the greater part disembarked in the boats, 
and landed on the quay. 

Fix took up a position, and carefully examined each face 
and figure which made its appearance. Presently one of the 
passengers, after vigorously pushing his way through the 
importunate crowd of porters, came up to him and politely 
asked if he could point out the English consulate, at the 
same time showing a passport which he wished to have 
visaed. Fix instinctively took the passport, and with a rapid 
glance read the description of its bearer. An involuntary 
motion of surprise nearly escaped him, for the description in 
the passport was identical with that of the bank robber which 
he had received from Scotland Yard. 

‘Ts this your passport.?” asked he. 

“No, it’s my master’s.” 

“And your master is ” 

“He stayed on board.” 

“But he must go to the consul’s in person, so as to estab- 
lish his identity.” 

“Oh, is that necessary .?” 

“Quite indispensable.” 

“And where is the consulate.?” 

“There, on the corner of the square,” said Fix, pointing 
to a house two hundred steps off. 

“I’ll go and fetch my master, who won’t be much pleased, 
however, to be disturbed.” 

The passenger bowed to Fix, and returned to the steamer. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 3^1 


CHAPTER VII 

WHICH ONCE MORE DEMONSTRATES THE USELESSNESS OF 
PASSPORTS AS AIDS TO DETECTIVES 

TT HE detective passed down tlie quay, and rapidly made 
his way to the consul’s office, where he was at once admitted 
to the presence of that official. 

“Consul,” said he, without preamble, “I have strong rea- 
sons for believing that my man is a passenger on the Mon- 
golia.^^ And he narrated what had just passed concerning 
the passport. 

“Well, Mr. Fix,” replied the consul, “I shall not be sorry 
to see the rascal’s face; but perhaps he won’t come here — 
that is, if he is the person you suppose him to be. A robber 
doesn’t quite like to leave traces of his flight behind him; 
and, besides, he is not obliged to have his passport counter- 
signed.” 

“If he is as shrewd as I think he is, consul, he will come.” 

“To have his passport visaed 

“Yes. Passports are only good for annoying honest folks, 
and aiding in the flight of rogues. I assure you it will be 
quite the thing for him to do ; but I hope you will not visa 
the passport.” 

“Why not.? If the passport is genuine I have no right to 
refuse.” 

“Still, I must keep this man here until I can get a war- 
rant to arrest him from London.” 

“Ah, that’s your look-out. But I cannot ” 

The consul did not flnish his sentence, for as he spoke 
a knock was heard at the door, and two strangers entered, 
one of whom was the servant whom Fix had met on the quay. 
The other, who was his master, held out his passport with 
the request that the consul would do him the favour to visa 
it. The consul took the document and carefully read it, 
whilst Fix observed, or rather devoured, the stranger with 
his eyes from a corner of the room. 

“You are Mr. Phileas Fogg.?” said the consul, after read- 
ing the passport. 


322 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 


‘‘I am.” 

‘‘And this man is your servant.?” 

“He is : a Frenchman, named Passepartout.” 

“You are from London.?” 

“Yes.” 

“And you are going ” 

“To Bombay.” 

“Very good, sir. You know that a visa is useless, and that 
no passport is required.?” 

“I know it, sir,” replied Phileas Fogg; “but I wish to 
prove, by your visa, that I came by Suez.” 

“Very well, sir.” 

The consul proceeded to sign and date the passport, after 
which he added his official seal. Mr. Fogg paid the customary 
fee, coldly bowed, and went out, followed by his servant. 

“Well.?” queried the detective. 

“Well, he looks and acts like a perfectly honest man,” 
replied the consul. 

“Possibly; but that is not the question. Do you think, 
consul, that this phelgmatic gentleman resembles, feature 
by feature, the robber whose description I have received.?” 

“I concede that ; but then, you know, all descrip- 
tions ” 

“I’ll make certain of it,” interrupted Fix. “The servant 
seems to me less mysterious than the master ; besides, he’s a 
Frenchman, and can’t help talking. Excuse me for a little 
while, consul.” 

Fix started off in search of Passepartout. 

Meanwhile Mr. Fogg, after leaving the consulate, re- 
paired to the quay, gave some orders to Passepartout, went 
off to the Mongolia in a boat, and descended to his cabin. 
He took up his note-book, which contained the following 
memoranda : 

“Left London, Wednesday, October 2nd, at 8.45 p.m. 

“Reached Paris, Thursday, October 3rd, at 7.20 a.m. 

“Left Paris, Thursday, at 8.40 a.m. 

“Reached Turin by Mont Cenis, Friday, October 4th, at 
6.35 a.m. 

“Left Turin, Friday, at 7.20 a.m. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 623 

“Arrived at Brindisi, Saturday, October 5th, at 4 p.m. 

“Sailed on the Mongolia^ Saturday, at 5 p.m. 

“Reached Suez, Wednesday, October 9th, at 11 a.m. 

“Total of hours spent, 158^2 ? or, in days, six days and 
a half.” 

These dates were inscribed in an itinerary divided into 
columns, indicating the month, the day of the month, and 
the day for the stipulated and actual arrivals at each prin- 
cipal point — Paris, Brindisi, Suez, Bombay, Calcutta, 
Singapore, Hong Hong, Yokohama, San Francisco, New 
York, and London — from the 2nd of October to the 21st of 
December; and giving a space for setting down the gain 
made or the loss suffered on arrival at each locality. This 
methodical record thus contained an account of everything 
needed, and Mr. Fogg always knew whether he was behind- 
hand or in advance of his time. On this Friday, October 9th, 
he noted his arrival at Suez, and observed that he had as yet 
neither gained nor lost. He sat down quietly to breakfast 
in his cabin, never once thinking of inspecting the town, 
being one of those Englishmen who are wont to see foreign 
countries through the eyes of their domestics. 


CHAPTER VIII 

IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT TALKS RATHER MORE, PERHAPS, 
THAN IS PRUDENT 

Fix soon rejoined Passepartout, who was lounging and 
looking about on the quay, as if he did not feel that he, at 
least, was obliged not to see anything. 

“Well, my friend,” said the detective, coming up with him, 
“is your passport visaed.?” 

“Ah, it’s you, is it, monsieur.?” responded Passepartout. 
“Thanks, yes, the passport is all right.” 

“And you are looking about you.?” 

“Yes; but we travel so fast that I seem to be journeying 
in a dream. So this is Suez.?” 

“Yes.” 


S24< AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

“In Egypt?” 

“Certainly, in Egypt.” 

“And in Africa ?” 

“In Africa.” 

“In Africa!” repeated Passepartout. “Just think, mon- 
sieur, I had no idea that we should go farther than Paris; 
and all that I saw of Paris was between twenty minutes past 
seven and twenty minutes before nine in the morning, be- 
tween th^ Northern and the Lyons stations, through the win- 
dows of a car, and in a driving rain! How I regret not 
having seen once more Pere la Chaise and the circus in the 
Champs Elysees !” 

“You are in a great hurry, then?” 

“I am not, but my master is. By the way, I must buy some 
shoes and shirts. We came away without trunks, only with a 
carpet-bag.” 

“I will show you an excellent shop for getting what you 
w^ant.” 

“Really, monsieur, you are very kind.” 

And they walked off together. Passepartout chatting vol- 
ubly as they went along. 

“Above all,” said he ; “don’t let me lose the steamer.” 

“You have plenty of time; it’s only twelve o’clock.” 

Passepartout pulled out his big watch. “Twelve!” he ex- 
claimed ; “why, it’s only eight minutes before ten.” 

“Your watch is slow.” 

“My watch? A family watch, monsieur, which has come 
down from my great-grandfather ! It doesn’t vary five min- 
utes in the year. It’s a perfect chronometer, look you.” 

“I see how it is,” said Fix. “You have kept London time, 
which is two hours behind that of Suez. You ought to 
regulate your watch at noon in each country.” 

“I regulate my watch? Never!” 

“Well, then, it will not agree with the sun.” 

“So much the worse for the sun, monsieur. The sun 'will 
be wrong, then !” 

And the worthy fellow returned the watch to its fob with 
a defiant gesture. After a few minutes’ silence. Fix resumed : 
“You left London hastily, then?” 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 325 

rather think so! Last Friday at eight o’clock in the 
evening, Monsieur Fogg came home from his club, and three- 
quarters of an hour afterwards we were olf.” 

“But where is your master going?” 

“Always straight ahead. He is going round the world.” 

“Round the world?” cried Fix. 

“Yes, and in eighty days ! He says it is on a wager ; but, 
between us, I don’t believe a word of it. That wouldn’t be 
common sense. There’s something else in the wind.” 

“Ah ! Mr. Fogg is a character, is he?” 

“I should say he was.” 

“Is he rich?” 

“No doubt, for he is carrying an enormous sum in brand- 
new banknotes with him. And he doesn’t spare the money 
on the way, either: he has offered a large reward to the 
engineer of the Mongolia if he gets us to Bombay well in 
advance of time.” 

“And you have known your master a long time ?” 

“Why, no; I entered his service the very day we left 
London.” 

The effect of these replies upon the already suspicious and 
excited detective may be imagined. The hasty departure 
from London soon after the robbery ; the large sum carried 
by Mr. Fogg; his eagerness to reach distant countries; the 
pretext of an eccentric and foolhardy bet — all confirmed Fix 
in his theory. He continued to pump poor Passepartout, and 
learned that he really knew little or nothing of his master, 
who lived a solitary existence in London, was said to be 
rich, though no one knew whence came his riches, and was 
mysterious and impenetrable in his affairs and habits. Fix 
felt sure that Phileas Fogg would not land at Suez, but was. 
really going on to Bombay. 

“Is Bombay far from here?” asked Passepartout. 

“Pretty far. It is a ten days’ voyage by sea.” 

“And in what country is Bombay?” 

“India.” 

“In Asia?” 

“Certainly.” 


826 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

“The deuce! I was going to tell you — there’s one thing 
that worries me — my burner !” 

“What burner?” 

“^ly gas-burner, which I forgot to turn off, and which is 
at this moment burning — at my expense. I have calculated, 
monsieur, that I lose two shillings every four and twenty 
liours, exactly sixpense more than I earn ; and you will un- 
derstand that the longer our j ourney ” 

Did Fix pay any attention to Passepartout’s trouble 
about the gas? It is not probable. He was not listening, but 
was cogitating a project. Passepartout and he had now 
reached the shop, where Fix left his companion to make liis 
purchases, after recommending him not to miss the steamer, 
and hurried back to the consulate. Now that he was fully 
convinced. Fix had quite recovered his equanimity. 

“Consul,” said he, “I have no longer any doubt. I have 
spotted my man. He passes himself off as an odd stick who is 
going round the world in eighty days.” 

“Then he’s a sharp fellow,” returned the consul, “and 
counts on returning to London after putting the police of 
the two countries off his track.” 

“We’ll see about that,” replied Fix. 

“But are you not mistaken?” 

“I am not mistaken.” 

“Why was this robber so anxious to prove, by the visa, 
that he had passed through Suez?” 

“Why? I have no idea; but listen to me.” 

He reported in a few words the most important parts of 
his conversation with Passepartout. 

“In short,” said the consul, “appearances are wholly 
against this man. And what are you going to do?” 

“Send a despatch to London for a w'arrant of arrest to 
be despatched instantly to Bombay, take passage on board 
the Mongolia, follow my rogue to India, and there, on Eng- 
lish ground, arrest him politely, with my warrant in my 
hand, and my hand on his shoulder.” 

Having uttered these words with a cool, careless air, the 
detective took leave of the consul, and repaired to the tele- 
graph office, whence he sent the despatch which we have seen 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 3^7 

to the London police office. A quarter of an hour later found 
Fix, with a small hag in his hand, proceeding on board the 
Mongolia ; and, ere many moments longer, the noble steamer 
rode out at full steam upon the waters of the Red Sea. 


CHAPTER IX 

IN WHICH THE RED SEA AND THE INDIAN OCEAN PROVE 
PROPITIOUS TO THE DESIGNS OF PHILEAS FOGG 

T HE distance between Suez and Aden is precisely thirteen 
hundred and ten miles, and the regulations of the company 
allow the steamers one hundred and thirty-eight hours in 
which to traverse it. The Mongolia^ thanks to the vigorous 
exertions of the engineer, seemed likely, so rapid was her 
speed, to reach her destination considerably within that time. 
The greater part of the passengers from Brindisi were bound 
for India — some for Bombay, others for Calcutta by way of 
Bombay, the nearest route thither, now that a railway crosses 
the Indian peninsula. Among the passengers was a number 
of officials and military officers of various grades, the latter 
being either attached to the regular British forces or com- 
manding the Sepoy troops, and receiving high salaries ever 
since the central government has assumed the powers of the 
East India Company: for the sub-lieutenants get 280Z., 
brigadiers, 2,400Z., and generals of divisions, 4,000Z. What 
with the military men, a number of rich young Englishmen 
on their travels, and the hospitable efforts of the purser, the 
time passed quickly on the Mongolia. The best of fare was 
spread upon the cabin tables at breakfast, lunch, dinner, and 
the eight o’clock supper, and the ladies scrupulously changed 
their toilets twice a day ; and the hours were whirled away, 
when the sea was tranquil, with music, dancing, and games. 

But the Red Sea is full of caprice, and often boisterous, 
like most long and narrow gulfs. When the wind came from 
the African or Asian coast the Mongolia, with her long hull, 
rolled fearfully. Then the ladies speedily disappeared below ; 
the pianos were silent ; singing and dancing suddenly ceased. 


328 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

Yet the good ship ploughed straight on, unretarded by 
wind or wave, towards the straits of Bab-el-Mandeb. What 
was Phileas Fogg doing all this time? It might be thought 
that, in his anxiety, he would be constantly watching the 
changes of the wind, the disorderly raging of the billows — 
every chance, in short, which might force the Mongolia to 
slacken her speed, and thus interrupt his journey. But, if 
he thought of these possibilities, he did not betray the fact 
by any outward sign. 

Always the same impassible member of the Reform Club, 
whom no incident could surprise, as unvarying as the ship’s 
chronometers, and seldom having the curiosity even to go 
upon the deck, he passed through the memorable scenes of 
the Red Sea with cold indifference ; did not care to recognise 
the historic towns and villages which, along its borders, 
raised their picturesque outlines against the sky; and be- 
tra^^ed no fear of the dangers of the Arabic Gulf, which the 
old historians always spoke of with horror, and upon which 
the ancient navigators never ventured without propitiating 
the gods by ample sacrifices. How did this eccentric per- 
sonage pass his time on the Mongolia? He made his four 
hearty meals every day, regardless of the most persistent 
rolling and pitching on the part of the steamer ; and he 
played whist indefatigably, for he had found partners as 
enthusiastic in the game as himself. A tax-collector, on the 
way to his post at Goa ; the Rev. Decimus Smith, returning 
to his parish at Bombay; and a brigadier-general of the 
English army, wEo was about to rejoin his brigade at 
Benares, made up the party, and, with Mr. Fogg, played 
whist by the hour together in absorbing silence. 

As for Passepartout, he, too, had escaped sea-sickness, 
and took his meals conscientiously in the forward cabin. 
He rather enjoyed the voyage, for he was well fed and well 
lodged, took a great interest in the scenes through which 
they were passing, and consoled himself with the delusion 
that his master’s whim would end at Bombay. He was 
pleased, on the day after leaving Suez, to find on deck the 
obliging person with whom he had walked and chatted on 
the quays. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 329 

“If I am not mistaken,” said he, approaching this person, 
with his most amiable smile, “you are the gentleman who so 
kindly volunteered to guide me at Suez?” 

“Ah! I quite recognise you. You are the servant of the 
strange Englishman ” 

“Just so, monsieur ” 

“Fix.” 

“Monsieur Fix,” resumed Passepartout, “I’m charmed to 
find you on board. Where are you bound?” 

“Like you, to Bombay.” 

“That’s capital! Have you made this trip before?” 

“Several times. I am one of the agents of the Peninsular 
Company.” 

“Then you know India?” 

“Why — yes,” replied Fix, who spoke cautiously. 

“A curious place, this India?” 

“Oh, very curious. Mosques, minarets, temples, fakirs, 
pagodas, tigers, snakes, elephants ! I hope you will have 
ample time to see the sights.” 

“I hope so. Monsieur Fix. You see, a man of sound sense 
ought not to spend his life jumping from a steamer upon a 
railway train, and from a railway train upon a steamer 
again, pretending to make the tour of the world in eighty 
days! No; all these gymnastics, you may be sure, will cease 
at Bombay.” 

“And Mr. Fogg is getting on well?” asked Fix, in the 
most natural tone in the world. 

“Quite well, and I too. I eat like a. famished ogre; it’s the 
sea air.” 

“But I never see your master on deck.” 

“Never; he hasn’t the least curiosity.” 

“Do you know, Mr. Passepartout, that this pretended 
tour in eighty days may conceal some secret errand — per- 
haps a diplomatic mission?” 

“Faith, Monsieur Fix, I assure you I know nothing about 
it, nor would I give half a crown to find out.” 

After this meeting. Passepartout and Fix got into the 
habit of chatting together, the latter making it a point to 
gain the worthy man’s confidence. He frequently offered 


330 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

him a glass of whiskey or pale ale in the steamer bar-room, 
which Passepartout never failed to accept with graceful 
alacrity, mentally pronouncing Fix the best of good fellows. 

Meanwhile the Mongolia was pushing forward rapidly; 
on the 13th, Mocha, surrounded by its ruined walls v/hereon 
date-trees were growing, was sighted, and on the mountains 
beyond were espied vast coffee-held s. Passepartout was 
ravished to behold this celebrated place, and thought that, 
with its circular walls and dismantled fort, it looked like an 
immense coffee-cup and saucer. The following night they 
passed through the Strait of Bab-el-Mandeb, which means 
in Arabic The Bridge of Tears, and the next day they put 
in at Steamer Point, north-west of Aden harbour, to take in 
coal. This matter of fuelling steamers is a serious one at 
such distances from the coal-mines; it costs the Peninsular 
Company some eight hundred thousand pounds a year. In 
these distant seas, coal is worth three or four pounds sterling 
a ton. 

The Mongolia had still sixteen hundred and fifty miles to 
traverse before reaching Bombay, and was obliged to re- 
main four hours at Steamer Point to coal up. But this delay, 
as it was foreseen, did not affect Phileas Fogg’s programme ; 
besides, the Mongolia^ instead of reaching Aden on the 
morning of the 15th, when she was due, arrived there on the 
evening of the 14th, a gain of fifteen hours. 

Mr. Fogg and his servant went ashore at Aden to have 
the passport again visaed; Fix, unobserved, followed them. 
The visa procured, Mr. Fogg returned on board to resume 
his former habits ; while Passepartout, according to custom, 
sauntered about among the mixed population of Somanlis, 
Banyans, Parsees, Jews, Arabs, and Europeans who com- 
prise the twenty-five thousand inhabitants of Aden. He 
gazed with wonder upon the fortifications which make this 
place the Gibraltar of the Indian Ocean, and the vast cisterns 
where the English engineers were still at work, two thousand 
years after the engineers of Solomon. 

‘‘Very curious, very curious,” said Passepartout to him- 
self, on returning to the steamer. ‘‘I see that it is by no 
means useless to travel, if a man wants to see something 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS SSI 

new.” At six p.m. the Mongolia slowly moved out of the 
roadstead, and was soon once more on the Indian Ocean. She 
had a hundred and sixty-eight hours in which to reach 
Bombay, and the sea was favourable, the wind being in the 
north-west, and all sails aiding the engine. The steamer 
rolled but little, the ladies, in fresh toilets, reappeared on 
deck, and the singing and dancing were resumed. The trip 
was being accomplished most successfully, and Passepartout 
was enchanted with the congenial companion which chance 
had secured him in the person of the delightful Fix. On 
Sunday, October 20th, towards noon, they came in sight of 
the Indian coast: two hours later the pilot came on board. 
A range of hills lay against the sky in the horizon, and soon 
the rows of palms which adorn Bombay came distinctly into 
view. The steamer entered the road formed by the islands in 
the bay, and at half -past four she hauled up at the quays 
of Bombay. 

Phileas Fogg was in the act of finishing the thirty-third 
rubber of the voyage, and his partner and himself having, 
by a bold stroke, captured all thirteen of the tricks, con- 
cluded this fine campaign with a brilliant victory. 

The Mongolia was due at Bombay on the 22nd; she ar- 
rived on the 20th. This was a gain to Phileas Fogg of two 
days since his departure from London, and he calmly en- 
tered the fact in the itinerary, in the column of gains. 


CHAPTER X 

IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT IS ONLY TOO GLAD TO GET OFF 
WITH THE LOSS OF HIS SHOES 

Everybody knows that the great reversed triangle of land, 
with its base in the north and its apex in the south, which 
is called India, embraces fourteen hundred thousand square 
miles, upon which is spread unequally a population of one 
hundred and eighty millions of souls. The British Crown 
exercises a real and despotic dominion over the larger por- 
tion of this vast country, and has a governor-general sta- 


SS2 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

tioned at Calcutta, governors at Madras, Bombay, and in 
Bengal, and a lieutenant-governor at Agra. 

But British India, properly so called, only embraces seven 
hundred thousand square miles, and a population of from 
one hundred to one hundred and ten millions of inhabitants. 
A considerable portion of India is still free from British 
authority; and there are certain ferocious rajahs in the in- 
terior who are absolutely independent. The celebrated East 
India Company was all-powerful from 1756, when the Eng- 
lish first gained a foothold on the spot where now stands the 
city of Madras, down to the time of the great Sepoy insur- 
rection. It gradually annexed province after province, pur- 
chasing them of the native chiefs, whom it seldom paid, and 
appointed the governor-general and his subordinates, civil 
and military. But the East India Company has now passed 
away, leaving the British possessions in India directly under 
the control of the Crown. The aspect of the country, as well 
as the manners and distinctions of race, is daily changing. 

Formerly one was obliged to travel in India by the old 
cumbrous methods of going on foot or on horseback, in 
palanquins or unwieldly coaches ; now fast steamboats ply on 
the Indus and the Ganges, and a great railway, with branch 
lines joining the main line at many points on its route, 
traverses the peninsula from Bombay to Calcutta in three 
days. This railway does not run in a direct line across India. 
The distance between Bombay and Calcutta, as the bird 
flies, is only from one thousand to eleven hundred miles ; but 
the deflections of the road increase this distance by more 
than a third. 

The general route of the Great Indian Peninsula Railway 
is as follows: Leaving Bombay, it passes through Salcette, 
crossing to the continent opposite Tannah, goes over the 
chain of the Western Ghauts, runs thence north-east as far 
as Burhampoor, skirts the nearly independent territory of 
Bundelcund, ascends to Allahabad, turns thence eastwardly, 
meeting the Ganges at Benares, then departs from the river 
a little, and, descending south-eastward by Burdivan and 
the French town of Chandernagor, has its terminus at 
Calcutta. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS SSS 

The passengers of the Mongolia went ashore at half-past 
four p.in. ; at exactly eight the train would start for Cal- 
cutta. 

Mr. Fogg, after bidding good-bye to his whist partners, 
left the steamer, gave his servant several errands to do, 
urged it upon him to be at the station promptly at eight, 
and, with his regular step, which beat to the second, like an 
astronomical clock, directed his steps to the passport office. 
As for the wonders of Bombay — its famous city hall, its 
splendid library, its forts and docks, its bazaars, mosques, 
synagogues, its Armenian churches, and the noble pagoda 
on Malabar Hill, with its two polygonal towers — ^he cared 
not a straw to see them. He would not deign to examine 
even the masterpieces of Elephanta, or the mysterious 
hypogea, concealed south-east from the docks, or those fine 
remains of Buddhist architecture, the Kanherian grottoes 
of the island of Salcette. 

Having transacted his business at the passport office, 
Phileas Fogg repaired quietly to the railway station, where 
he ordered dinner. Among the dishes served up to liim, the 
landlord especially recommended a certain giblet of “native 
rabbit,” on which he prided himself. 

Mr. Fogg accordingly tasted the dish, but, despite its 
spiced sauce, found it far from palatable. He rang for the 
landlord, and, on his appearance, said, fixing his clear eyes 
upon him, “Is this rabbit, sir.^” 

“Yes, my lord,” the rogue boldly replied, “rabbit from 
the jungles.” 

“And this rabbit did not mew when he was killed 

“Mew, my lord! What, a rabbit mewl I swear to 
you ” 

“Be so good, landlord, as not to swear, but remember this : 
cats were formerly considered, in India, as sacred animals. 
That was a good time.” 

“For the cats, my lord.?” 

“Perhaps for the travellers as well!” 

After which Mr. Fogg quietly continued his dinner. Fix 
had gone on shore shortly after Mr. Fogg, and his first 
destination was the headquarters of the Bombay police. He 


334 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

made himself known as a London detective, told his business 
at Bombay, and the position of affairs relative to the sup- 
posed robber, and nervously asked if a warrant had arrived 
from London. It had not reached the office; indeed, there 
had not yet been time for it to arrive. Fix was sorely disap- 
pointed, and tried to obtain an order of arrest from the 
director of the Bombay police. This the director refused, 
as the matter concerned the London office, which alone could 
legally deliver the warrant. Fix did not insist, and was fain 
to resign himself to await the arrival of the important docu- 
ment; but he was determined not to lose sight of the mys- 
terious rogue as long as he stayed in Bombay. He did not 
doubt for a moment, any more than Passepartout, that 
Phileas Fogg would remain there, at least until it was time 
for the warrant to arrive. 

Passepartout, however, had no sooner heard his master’s 
orders on leaving the Mongolia than he saw at once that 
they were to leave Bombay as they had done Suez and Paris, 
and that the journey would be extended at least as far as 
Calcutta, and perhaps beyond that place. He began to ask 
himself if this bet that Mr. Fogg talked about was not really 
in good earnest, and whether his fate was not in truth 
forcing him, despite his love of repose, around the world in 
eighty days! 

Having purchased the usual quota of shirts and shoes, he 
took a leisurely promenade about the streets, where crowds 
of people of many nationalities — Europeans, Persians with 
pointed caps, Banyas with round turbans, Sindes with 
square bonnets, Parsees with black mitres, and long-robed 
Armenians — were collected. It happened to be the day of a 
Parsee festival. These descendants of the sect of Zoroaster 
—the most thrifty, civilised, intelligent, and austere of the 
East Indians, among whom are counted the richest native 
merchants of Bombay — were celebrating a sort of religious 
carnival, with processions and shows, in the midst of which 
Indian dancing-girls, clothed in rose-coloured gauze, looped 
up with gold and silver, danced airily, but with perfect 
modesty, to the sound of viols and the clanging of tam- 
bourines. It is needless to say that Passepartout watched 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS SS5 

these curious ceremonies with staring eyes and gaping 
mouth, and that his countenance was that of the greenest 
booby imaginable. 

Unhappily for his master, as well as himself, his curiosity 
drew him unconsciously farther off than he intended to go. 
At last, having seen the Parsee carnival wind away in the 
distance, he was turning his steps towards the station, when 
he happened to espy the splendid pagoda on Malabar Hill, 
and was seized with an irresistible desire to see its interior. 
He was quite ignorant that it is forbidden to Christians to 
enter certain Indian temples, and that even the faithful must 
not go in without first leaving their shoes outside the door. 
It may be said here that the wise policy of the British Gov- 
ernment severely punishes a disregard of the practices of the 
native religions. 

Passepartout, however, thinking no harm, went in like 
a simple tourist, and was soon lost in admiration of the 
splendid Brahmin ornamentation which everywhere met his 
eyes, when of a sudden he found himself sprawling on the 
sacred flagging. He looked up to behold three enraged 
priests, who forthwith fell upon him, tore off his shoes, and 
began to beat him with loud, savage exclamations. The agile 
Frenchman was soon upon his feet again, and lost no time in 
knocking down two of his long-gowned adversaries with his 
fists arid a vigorous application of his toes; then, rushing 
out of the pagoda as fast as his legs could, carry him, he 
soon escaped the third priest by mingling with the crowd in 
the streets. 

At five minutes before eight. Passepartout, hatless, shoe- 
less, and having in the squabble lost his package of shirts 
and shoes, rushed breathlessly into the station. 

Fix, who had followed Mr. Fogg to the station, and saw 
that he was really going to leave Bombay, was there, upon 
the platform. He had resolved to follow the supposed rob- 
ber to Calcutta, and farther, if necessary. Passepartout did 
not observe the detective, who stood in an obscure corner; 
but Fix heard him relate his adventures in a few words to 
Mr. Fogg. 

‘T hope that this will not happen again,” said Phileas 


336 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

Fogg coldly, as he got into the train. Poor Passepartout, 
quite crestfallen, followed his master without a word. Fix 
was on the point of entering another carriage, when an idea 
struck him which induced him to alter his plan. 

“No, I’ll stay,” muttered he. “An offence has been com- 
mitted on Indian soil. I’ve got my man.” 

Just then the locomotive gave a sharp screech, and the 
train passed out into the darkness of the night. 


CHAPTER XI 

IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG SECURES A CURIOUS MEANS OF 
CONVEYANCE AT A FABULOUS PRICE 

The train had started punctually. Among the passengers 
were a number of officers. Government officials, and opium 
and indigo merchants, whose business called them to the 
eastern coast. Passepartout rode in the same carriage with 
his master, and a third passenger occupied a seat opposite 
to them. This was Sir Francis Cromarty, one of Mr. Fogg’s 
whist partners on the Mongolia^ now on his way to join his 
corps at Benares. Sir Francis was a tall, fair man of fifty, 
who had greatly distinguished himself in the last Sepoy 
revolt. He made India his home, only paying brief visits to 
England at rare intervals ; and was almost as familiar as a 
native with the customs, history, and character of India 
and its people. But Phileas Fogg, who was not travelling, 
but only describing a circumference, took no pains to in- 
quire into these subjects; he was a solid body, traversing an 
orbit around the terrestrial globe, according to the laws of 
rational mechanics. He was at this moment calculating in his 
mind the number of hours spent since his departure from 
London, and, had it been in his nature to make a useless 
demonstration, would have rubbed his hands for satisfaction. 
Sir Francis Cromarty had observed the oddity of his travel- 
ling companion — although the only opportunity he had for 
studying him had been while he was dealing the cards, and 
between two rubbers — and questioned himself whether a hu- 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 387 

man heart really beat beneath this cold exterior, and whether 
Phileas Fogg had any sense of the beauties of nature. The 
brigadier-general was free to mentally confess that, of all 
the eccentric persons he had ever met, none was comparable 
to this product of the exact sciences. 

Phileas Fogg had not concealed from Sir Francis his 
design of going round the world, nor the circumstances un- 
der which he set out ; and the general only saw in the wager 
a useless eccentricity and a lack of sound commonsense. In 
the way this strange gentleman was going on, he would leave 
the world without having done any good to himself or any- 
body else. 

An hour after leaving Bombay the train had passed the 
viaducts and the Island of Salcette, and had got into the 
open country. At Gaily an they reached the junction of the 
branch line which descends towards south-eastern India by 
Kandallah and Pounah; and, passing Pauwell, they entered 
the defiles of the mountains, with their basalt bases, and 
their summits crowned with thick and verdant forests. 
Phileas Fogg and Sir Francis Cromarty exchanged a few 
words from time to time, and now Sir Francis, reviving the 
conversation, observed, “Some years ago, Mr. Fogg, you 
would have met with a delay at this point which would prob- 
ably have lost you your wager.” 

“How so. Sir Francis.?” 

“Because the railway stopped at the base of these moun- 
tains, which the passengers were obliged to cross in palan- 
quins or on ponies to Kandallah, on the other side.” 

“Such a delay would not have deranged my plans in the 
least,” said Mr. Fogg. “I have constantly foreseen the like- 
lihood of certain obstacles.” 

“But, Mr. Fogg,” pursued Sir Francis, “you run the risk 
of having some difficulty about this worthy fellow’s adven- 
ture at the pagoda.” Passepartout, his feet comfortably 
wrapped in his travelling-blanket, was sound asleep and did 
not dream that anybody was talking about him. “The Gov- 
ernment is very severe upon that kind of offence. It takes 
particular care that the religious customs of the Indians 
should be respected, and if your servant were caught ” 


388 AROUND THE WORED IN EIGHTY DAYS 

‘‘Very well, Sir Francis,” replied Mr. Fogg; “if he had 
been caught he would have been condemned and punished, 
and then would have quietly returned to Europe. I don’t 
see how this affair could have delayed his master.” 

The conversation fell again. During the night the train 
left the mountains behind, and passed Nassik, and the next 
day proceeded over the flat, well-cultivated country of the 
Khandeish, with its straggling villages, above which rose the 
minarets of the pagodas. This fertile territory is watered by 
numerous small rivers and limpid streams, mostly tribu- 
taries of the Godavery. 

Passepartout, on waking and looking out, could not 
realise that he was actually crossing India in a railway train. 
The locomotive, guided by an English engineer and fed 
with English coal, threw out its smoke upon cotton, coffee, 
nutmeg, clove, and pepper plantations, while the steam 
curled in spirals around groups of palm-trees, in the midst 
of which were seen picturesque bungalows, viharis (sort 
of abandoned monasteries), and marvellous temples en- 
riched by the exhaustless ornamentation of Indian architec- 
ture. Then they came upon vast tracts extending to the 
horizon, with jungles inhabited by snakes and tigers, which 
fled at the noise of the train ; succeeded by forests penetrated 
by the railway, and still haunted by elephants which, with 
pensive eyes, gazed at the train as it passed. The travellers 
crossed, beyond Milligaum, the fatal country so often 
stained with blood by the sectaries of the goddess Kali. Not 
far off rose Ellora, with its graceful pagodas, and the fa- 
mous Aurungabad, capital of the ferocious Aureng-Zeb, 
now the chief town of one of the detached provinces of the 
kingdom of the Nizam. It was thereabouts that Feringhea, 
the Thuggee chief, king of the stranglers, held his sway. 
These ruffians, united by a secret bond, strangled victims of 
every age in honour of the goddess Death, without ever 
shedding blood; there was a period when this part of the 
country could scarcely be travelled over without corpses 
being found in every direction. The English Government 
has succeeded in greatly diminishing these murders, though 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 339 

the Thuggees still exist, and pursue the exercise of their 
horrible rites. 

At half-past twelve the train stopped at Burhampoor 
where Passepartout was able to purchase some Indian slip- 
pers, ornamented with false pearls, in which, with evident 
vanity, he proceeded to encase his feet. The travellers made 
a hasty breakfast and started off for Assurghur, after 
skirting for a little the banks of the small river Tapty, which 
empties into the Gulf of Cambray, near Surat. 

Passepartout was now plunged into absorbing reverie. 
Up to his arrival at Bombay, he had entertained hopes that 
their journey would end there; but, now that they were 
plainly whirling across India at full speed, a sudden change 
had come over the spirit of his dreams. His old vagabond 
nature returned to him; the fantastic ideas of his youth 
once more took possession of him. He came to regard his 
master’s project as intended in good earnest, believed in the 
reality of the bet, and therefore in the tour of the world and 
the necessity of making it without fail within the designated 
period. Already he began to worry about possible delays, 
and accidents which might happen on the way. He recog- 
nised himself as being personally interested in the wager, 
and trembled at the thought that he might have been the 
means of losing it by his unpardonable folly of the night 
before. Being much less cool-headed than Mr. Fogg, he was 
much more restless, counting and recounting the days passed 
over, uttering maledictions when the train stopped, and 
accusing it of sluggishness, and mentally blaming Mr. Fogg 
for not having bribed the engineer. The worthy fellow was 
ignorant that, while it was possible by such means to hasten 
the rate of a steamer, it could not be done on the railway. 

The train entered the defiles of the Sutpour Mountains, 
which separate the Khandeish from Bundelcund, towards 
evening. The next day Sir Francis Cromarty asked Passe- 
partout what time it was ; to which, on consulting his watch, 
he replied that it was three in the morning. This famous 
timepiece, always regulated on the Greenwich meridian, 
which was now some seventy-seven degrees westward, was at 
least four hours slow. Sir Francis corrected Passepartout’s 


340 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

time, whereupon the latter made the same remark that he 
had done to Fix; and upon the general insisting that the 
watch should be regulated in each new meridian, since he was 
constantly going eastward, that is in the face of the sun, 
and therefore the days were shorter by four minutes for each 
degree gone over. Passepartout obstinately refused to alter 
his watch, which he kept at London time. It was an innocent 
delusion which could harm no one. 

The train stopped, at eight o’clock, in the midst of a glade 
some fifteen miles beyond Rothal, where there were several 
bungalows, and workmen’s cabins. The conductor, passing 
along the carriages, shouted, ‘‘Passengers will get out here !” 

Phileas Fogg looked at Sir Francis Cromarty for an ex- 
planation ; but the general could not tell what meant a halt 
in the midst of this forest of dates and acacias. 

Passepartout, not less surprised, rushed out and speedily 
returned, crying: “Monsieur, no more railway!” 

“What do you mean.?” asked Sir Francis. 

“I mean to say that the train isn’t going on.” 

The general at once stepped out, while Phileas Fogg 
calmly followed him, and they proceeded together to the 
conductor. 

“Where are we.?” asked Sir Francis. 

“At the hamlet of Kholby.” 

“Do we stop here.?” 

“Certainly. The railway isn’t finished.” 

“What I not finished .?” 

“No. There’s still a matter of fifty miles to be laid from 
here to Allahabad, where the line begins again.” 

“But the papers announced the opening of the railway 
throughout.” 

“What would you have, officer.? The papers were mis- 
taken.” 

“Yet you sell tickets from Bombay to Calcutta,” retorted 
Sir Francis, who was growing warm. 

“No doubt,” replied the conductor; “but the passengers 
know that they must provide means of transportation for 
themselves from Kholby to Allahabad.” 

Sir Francis was furious. Passepartout would willingly 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS S4}1 

have knocked the conductor down, and did not dare to look 
at his master. 

“Sir Francis,” said Mr. Fogg quietly, “we will, if you 
please, look about for some means of conveyance to Allaha- 
bad.” 

“Mr. Fogg, this is a delay greatly to your disadvantage.” 

“No, Sir Francis ; it was foreseen.” 

“What! You knew that the way ” 

“Not at all ; but I knew that some obstacle or other would 
sooner or later arise on my route. Nothing, therefore, is lost. 
I have two days, which I have already gained, to sacrifice. 
A steamer leaves Calcutta for Hong Kong at noon, on the 
£5th. This is the 22nd, and we shall reach Calcutta in 
time.” 

There was nothing to say to so confident a response. 

It was but too true that the railway came to a termination 
at this point. The papers were like some watches, which 
have a way of getting too fast, and had been premature in 
their announcement of the completion of the line. The 
greater part of the travellers were aware of this interrup- 
tion, and, leaving the train, they began to engage such 
vehicles as the village could provide — four-wheeled palkig- 
haris, waggons drawn by zebus, carriages that looked like 
perambulating pagodas, palanquins, ponies, and what not. 

Mr. Fogg and Sir Francis Cromarty, after searching the 
village from end to end, came back without having found 
anything. 

“I shall go afoot,” said Phileas Fogg. 

Passepartout, who had now rejoined his master, made a 
wry grimace, as he thought of his magnificent, but too frail 
Indian shoes. Happily he too had been looking about him, 
and, after a moment’s hesitation, said, “Monsieur, I think I 
have found a means of conveyance.” 

“What.?” 

“An elephant I An elephant that belongs to an Indian who 
lives but a hundred steps from here.” 

“Let’s go and see the elephant,” replied Mr. Fogg. 

They soon reached a small hut, near which, enclosed 
within some high palings, was the animal in question. An 


342 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

Indian came out of the hut, and, at their request, conducted 
them within the enclosure. The elephant, which its owner 
had reared, not for a beast of burden, but for warlike pur- 
poses, was half domesticated. The Indian had begun already, 
b}" often irritating him, and feeding him every three months 
on sugar and butter, to impart to him a ferocity not in his 
nature, this method being often employed by those who train 
the Indian elephants for battle. Happily, however, for Mr. 
Fogg, the animal’s instruction in this direction had not gone 
far, and the elephant still preserved his natural gentleness. 
Kiouni — this was the name of the beast — could doubtless 
travel rapidly for a long time, and, in default of any other 
means of conveyance, Mr. Fogg resolved to hire him. But 
elephants are far from cheap in India, where they are be- 
coming scarce, the males, which alone are suitable for circus 
shows, are much sought, especially as but few of them are 
domesticated. When therefore Mr. Fogg proposed to the 
Indian to hire Kiouni, he refused point-blank. Mr. Fogg 
persisted, offering the excessive sum of ten pounds an hour 
for the loan of the beast to Allahabad. Refused. Twenty 
pounds Refused also. Forty pounds.^ Still refused. Passe- 
partout jumped at each advance; but the Indian declined 
to be tempted. Yet the offer was an alluring one, for, sup- 
posing it took the elephant fifteen hours to reach Allahabad, 
his owner would receive no less than six hundred pounds 
sterling. 

Phileas Fogg, without getting in the least flurried, then 
proposed to purchase the animal outright, and at first 
offered a thousand pounds for him. The Indian, perhaps 
thinking he was going to make a great bargain, still refused. 

Sir Francis Cromarty took ]\Ir. Fogg aside, and begged 
him to reflect before he went any further; to which that 
gentleman replied that he was not in the habit of acting 
rashly, that a bet of twenty thousand pounds was at stake, 
that the elephant was absolutely necessary to him, and that 
he would secure him if he had to pay twenty times his value. 
Returning to the Indian, whose small, sharp eyes, glistening 
with avarice, betrayed that with him it was only a question 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 343 

of how great a price he could obtain. Mr. Fogg offered first 
twelve hundred, then fifteen hundred, eighteen hundred, two 
thousand pounds. Passepartout, usually so rubicund, was 
fairly white Avith suspense. 

At two thousand pounds the Indian yielded. 

“What a price, good heavens !” cried Passepartout^ “for 
an elephant!” 

It only remained noAV to find a guide, which was compara- 
tively easy. A young Parsee, with an intelligent face, offered 
his services, which Mr. Fogg accepted, promising so gener- 
ous a reward as to. materially stimulate his zeal. The ele- 
phant was led out and equipped. The Parsee, who was an 
accomplished elephant driver, covered his back with a sort 
of saddle-cloth, and attached to each of his flanks some 
curiously uncomfortable howdahs. 

Phileas Fogg paid the Indian with some banknotes which 
he extracted from the famous carpet-bag, a proceeding that 
seemed to deprive poor Passepartout of his vitals. Then he 
offered to carry Sir Francis to Allahabad, which the briga- 
dier gratefully accepted, as one traveller the more would not 
be likely to fatigue the gigantic beast. Provisions were pur- 
chased at Kholby, and, while Sir Francis and Mr. Fogg took 
the howdahs on either side. Passepartout got astride the 
saddle-cloth between them. The Parsee perched himself on 
the elephant’s neck, and at nine o’clock they set out from 
the village, the animal marching off through the dense forest 
of palms by the shortest cut. 


CHAPTER XII 

IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG AND HIS COMPANIONS VENTURE 
ACROSS THE INDIAN FORESTS, AND WHAT ENSUED 

In order to shorten the journey, the guide passed to the 
left of the line where the raihvay Avas still in process of being 
built. This line, owing to the capricious turnings of the 
Vindhia Mountains, did not pursue a straight course. The 
Parsee, who was quite familiar Avith the roads and paths in 


344 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

the district, declared that they would gain twenty miles by 
striking directly through the forest. 

Phileas Fogg and Sir Francis Cromarty, plunged to the 
neck in the peculiar howdahs provided for them, were hor- 
ribly jostled by the swift trotting of the elephant, spurred 
on as he was by the skilful Parsee; but they endured the 
discomfort with true British phlegm, talking little, and 
scarcely able to catch a glimpse of each other. As for Passe- 
partout, who was mounted on the beast’s back, and received 
the direct force of each concussion as he trod along, he was 
very careful, in accordance with his master’s advice, to keep 
his tongue from between his teeth, as it would otherwise have 
been bitten off short. The worthy fellow bounced from the 
elephant’s neck to his rump, and vaulted like a clown on a 
spring-board; yet he laughed in the midst of his bouncing, 
and from time to time took a piece of sugar out of his 
pocket, and inserted it in Kiouni’s trunk, who received it 
without in the least slackening his regular trot. 

After two hours the guide stopped the elephant, and gave 
him an hour for rest, during which Kiouni, after quenching 
his thirst at a neighbouring spring, set to devouring the 
branches and shrubs round about him. Neither Sir Francis 
nor Mr. Fogg regretted the delay, and both descended with 
a feeling of relief. ‘‘Why, he’s made of iron !” exclaimed 
the general, gazing admiringly on Kiouni. 

“Of forged iron,” replied Passepartout, as he set about 
preparing a hasty breakfast. 

At noon the Parsee gave the signal of departure. The 
country soon presented a very savage aspect. Copses of dates 
and dwarf-palms succeeded the dense forests ; then vast, dry 
plains, dotted with scanty shrubs, and sown with great 
blocks of syenite. All this portion of Bundelcund, which is 
little frequented by travellers, is inhabited by a fanatical 
population, hardened in the most horrible practices of the 
Hindoo faith. The English have not been able to secure 
complete dominion over this territory, which is subjected 
to the influence of rajahs, whom it is almost impossible to 
reach in their inaccessible mountain fastnesses. The travel- 
lers several times saw bands of ferocious Indians, who, when 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 845 

they perceived the elephant striding across-country, made 
angry and threatening motions. The Parsee avoided them as 
much as possible. Pew animals were observed on the route; 
even the monkeys hurried from their path with contortions 
and grimaces which convulsed Passepartout with laughter. 

In the midst of his gaiety, however, one thought troubled 
the worthy servant. What would Mr. Pogg do with the ele- 
phant when he got to Allahabad.^ Would he carry him on 
with him.f^ Impossible! The cost of transporting him would 
make him ruinously . expensive. Would he sell him, or set 
him free.^ The estimable beast certainly deserved some con- 
sideration. Should Mr. Pogg choose to make him. Passe- 
partout, a present of Kiouni, he would be very much 
embarrassed ; and these thoughts did not cease worrying him 
for a long time. 

The principal chain of the Vindhias was crossed by eight 
in the evening, and another halt was made on the northern 
slope, in a ruined bungalow. They had gone nearly twenty- 
five miles that day, and an equal distance still separated 
them from the station of Allahabad. 

The night was cold. The Parsee lit a fire in the bungalow 
with a few dry branches, and the warmth was very grateful, 
provisions purchased at Kholby sufficed for supper, and the 
travellers ate ravenously. The conversation, beginning with 
a few disconnected phrases, soon gave place to loud and 
steady snores. The guide watched Kiouni, who slept stand- 
ing, bolstering himself against the trunk of a large tree. 
Nothing occurred during the night to disturb the slumber- 
ers, although occasional growls from panthers and chat- 
terings of monkeys broke the silence; the more formidable 
beasts made no cries or hostile demonstration against the 
occupants of the bungalow. Sir Prancis slept heavily, like 
an honest soldier overcome with fatigue. Passepartout was 
wrapped in uneasy dreams of the bouncing of the day be- 
fore. As for Mr. Pogg, he slumbered as peacefully as if he 
had been in his serene mansion in Saville Row. 

The journey was resumed at six in the morning; the guide 
hoped to reach Allahabad by evening. In that case, Mr. 
Pogg would only lose a part of the forty-eight hours saved 


346 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

since the beginning of the tour. Kiouni, resuming his rapid 
gait, soon descended the lower spurs of the Vindhias, and 
towards noon they passed by the village of Kallenger, on the 
Cani, one of the branches of the Ganges. The guide avoided 
inhabited places, thinking it safer to keep the open country, 
which lies along the first depressions of the basin of the great 
river. Allahabad was now only twelve miles to the north-east. 
They stopped under a clump of bananas, the fruit of which, 
as healthy as bread and as succulent as cream, was amply 
partaken of and appreciated. 

At two o’clock the guide entered a thick forest which ex- 
tended several miles ; he preferred to travel under cover of 
the woods. They had not as yet had any unpleasant en- 
counters, and the journey seemed on the point of being 
successfully accomplished, when the elephant, becoming 
restless, suddenly stopped. 

It was then four o’clock. 

“What’s the matter.?” asked Sir Francis, putting out his 
head. 

“I don’t know, officer,” replied the Parsee, listening at- 
tentively to a confused murmur which came through the 
thick branches. 

The murmur soon became more distinct; it now seemed 
like a distant concert of human voices accompanied by brass 
instruments. Passepartout was all eyes and ears. Mr. Fogg 
patiently waited without a word. The Parsee jumped to the 
ground, fastened the elephant to a tree, and plunged into 
the thicket. He soon returned, saying : 

“A procession of Brahmins is coming this way. We must 
prevent their seeing us, if possible.” 

The guide unloosed the elephant and led him into a 
thicket, at the same time asking the travellers not to stir. 
He held himself ready to bestride the animal at a moment’s 
notice, should flight become necessary; but he evidently 
thought that the procession of the faithful would pass with- 
out perceiving them amid the thick foliage, in which they 
were wholly concealed. 

The discordant tones of the voices and instruments drew 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 347 

nearer, and now droning songs mingled with the sound of 
the tambourines and cymbals. The head of the procession 
soon appeared beneath the trees, a hundred paces away ; and 
the strange figures who performed the religious ceremony 
were easily distinguished through the branches. First came 
the priests, with mitres on their heads, and clothed in long 
lace robes. They were surrounded by men, women, and chil- 
dren, who sang a kind of lugubrious psalm, interrupted at 
regular intervals by the tambourines and cymbals ; while be- 
hind them was drawn a car with large wheels, the spokes of 
which represented serpents entwined with each other. Upon 
the car, which was drawn by four richly caparisoned zebus, 
stood a hideous statue with four arms, the body coloured a 
dull red, with haggard eyes, dishevelled hair, protruding 
tongue, and lips tinted with betel. It stood upright upon the 
figure of a prostrate and headless giant. 

Sir Francis, recognising the statue, whispered, ‘‘The god- 
dess Kali ; the goddess of love and death.” 

“Of death, perhaps,” muttered back Passepartout, “but 
of love — that ugly old hag.? Never!” 

The Parsee made a motion to keep silence. 

A group of old fakirs were capering and making a wild 
ado round the statue; these were striped with ochre, and 
covered with cuts whence their blood issued drop by drop — 
stupid fanatics, who, in the great Indian ceremonies, still 
throw themselves under the wheels of Juggernaut. Some 
Brahmins, clad in all the sumptuousness of Oriental apparel, 
and leading a woman who faltered at every step, followed. 
This woman was young, and as fair as a European. Her 
head and neck, shoulders, ears, arms, hands, and toes were 
loaded down with jewels and gems — with bracelets, earrings, 
and rings; while a tunic bordered with gold, and covered 
with a light muslin robe, betrayed the outline of her form. 

The guards who followed the young woman presented a 
violent contrast to her, armed as they were with naked 
sabres hung at their waists, and long damascened pistols, 
and bearing a corpse on a palanquin. It was the body of an 
old man, gorgeously arrayed in the habiliments of a rajah. 


348 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

wearing, as in life, a turban embroidered with pearls, a robe 
of tissue of silk and gold, a scarf of cashmere sewed with 
diamonds, and the magnificent weapons of a Hindoo prince. 
Next came the musicians and a rearguard of capering fa- 
kirs, whose cries sometimes drowned the noise of the instru- 
ments; these closed the procession. 

Sir Francis watched the procession with a sad counte- 
nance, and, turning to the guide, said, ‘‘A suttee.” 

The Parsee nodded, and put his finger to his lips. The 
procession slowly wound under the trees, and soon its last 
ranks disappeared in the depths of the wood. The songs 
gradually died away ; occasionally cries were heard in the 
distance, until at last all was silence again. 

Phileas Fogg had heard what Sir Francis said, and, as 
soon as the procession had disappeared, asked: “What is 
a suttee.^” 

“A suttee,” returned the general, “is a human sacrifice, 
but a voluntary one. The woman you have just seen will be 
burned to-morrow at the dawn of day.” 

“Oh, the scoundrels!” cried Passepartout, who could not 
repress his indignation. 

“And the corpse.^” asked Mr. Fogg. 

“Is that of the prince, her husband,” said the guide ; “an 
independent rajah of Bundelcund.” 

“Is it possible,” resumed Phileas Fogg, his voice betray- 
ing not the least emotion, “that these barbarous customs 
still exist in India, and that the English have been unable 
to put a stop to them.^” 

“These sacrifices do not occur in the larger portion of 
India,” replied Sir Francis; “but we have no power over 
these savage territories, and especially here in Bundelcund. 
The whole district north of the Vindhias is the theatre of 
incessant murders and pillage.” 

“The poor wretch !” exclaimed Passepartout, “to be 
burned alive!” 

“Yes,” returned Sir Francis, “burned alive. And, if she 
were not, you cannot conceive what treatment she would 
be obliged to submit to from her relatives. They would 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 349 

shave of¥ her hair, feed her on a scanty allowance of rice, 
treat her with contempt; she would be looked upon as an 
unclean creature, and would die in some corner, like a scurvy 
dog. The prospect of so frightful an existence drives these 
poor creatures to the sacrifice much more than love or 
religious fanaticism. Sometimes, however, the sacrifice is 
really voluntary, and it requires the active interference of 
the Government to prevent it. Several years ago, when I 
was living at Bombay, a young widow asked permission of 
the governor to be burned along with her husband’s body; 
but, as you may imagine, he refused. The woman left the 
town, took refuge with an independent rajah, and there 
carried out her self -devoted purpose.” 

While Sir Francis was speaking, the guide shook his head 
several times, and now said: ‘‘The sacrifice which will take 
place to-morrow at dawn is not a voluntary one.” 

“How do you know.^^” 

“Everybody knows about this affair in Bundelcund.” 

“But the wretched creature did not seem to be making 
any resistance,” observed Sir Francis. 

“That was because they had intoxicated her with fumes 
of hemp and opium.” 

“But where are they taking her.^” 

“To the pagoda of Pillaji, two miles from here; she will 
pass the night there.” 

“And the sacrifice will take place ” 

“To-morrow, at the first light of dawn.” 

The guide now led the elephant out of the thicket, and 
leaped upon his neck. Just at the moment that he was about 
to urge Kiouni forward with a peculiar whistle, Mr. Fogg 
stopped him, and, turning to Sir Francis Cromarty, said, 
“Suppose we save this woman.” 

“Save the woman, Mr. Fogg!” 

“I have yet twelve hours to spare; I can devote them to 
that.” 

“Why, you are a man of heart!” 

“Sometimes,” replied Phileas Fogg, quietly; “when I 
have the time.” 


850 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

CHAPTER XIII 

IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT RECEIVES A NEW PROOF THAT 
FORTUNE FAVORS THE BRAVE 

T HE project was a bold one, full of difficulty, perhaps 
impracticable. Mr. Fogg was going to risk life, or at least 
liberty, and therefore the success of his tour. But he did not 
hesitate, and he found in Sir Francis Cromarty an en- 
thusiastic ally. 

As for Passepartout, he was ready for anything that 
might be proposed. His master’s idea charmed him ; he per- 
ceived a heart, a soul, under that icy exterior. He began to 
love Phileas Fogg. 

There remained the guide : what course would he adopt ? 
Would he not take part with the Indians.? In default of his 
assistance, it was necessary to be assured of his neutrality. 

Sir Francis frankly put the question to him. 

“Officers,” replied the guide, “I am a Parsee, and this 
woman is a Parsee. Command me as you will.” 

“Excellent!” said Mr. Fogg. 

“However,” resumed the guide, “it is certain, not only 
that we shall risk our lives, but horrible tortures, if we are 
taken.” 

“That is foreseen,” replied Mr. Fogg. “I think we must 
wait till night before acting.” 

“I think so,” said the guide. 

The worthy Indian then gave some account of the victim, 
who, he said, was a celebrated beauty of the Parsee race, 
and the daughter of a wealthy Bombay merchant. She had 
received a thoroughly English education in that city, and, 
from her manners and intelligence, would be thought an 
European. Her name was Aouda. Left an orphan, she was 
married against her will to the old rajah of Bundelcund; 
and, knowing the fate that awaited her, she escaped, was 
retaken, and devoted by the rajah’s relatives, who had an 
interest in her death, to the sacrifice from which it seemed 
she could not escape. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 351 

The Parsee’s narrative only confirmed Mr. Fogg and his 
companions in their generous design. It was decided that 
the guide should direct the elephant towards the pagoda of 
Pillaji, which he accordingly approached as quickly as 
possible. They halted, half an hour afterwards, in a copse, 
some five hundred feet from the pagoda, where they were 
well concealed; but they could hear the groans and cries 
of the fakirs distinctly. 

They then discussed the means of getting at the victim. 
The guide was familiar with the pagoda of Pillaji, in which, 
as he declared, the young woman was imprisoned. Could 
they enter any of its doors while the whole party of Indians 
was plunged in a drunken sleep, or was it safer to attempt 
to make a hole in the walls? This could only be determined 
at the moment and the place themselves ; but it was certain 
that the abduction must be made that night, and not when, 
at break of day, the victim was led to her funeral pyre. Then 
no human intervention could save her. 

As soon as night fell, about six o’clock, they decided to 
make a reconnaissance around the pagoda. The cries of the 
fakirs were just ceasing; the Indians were in the act of 
plunging themselves into the drunkenness caused by liquid 
opium mingled with hemp, and it might be possible to slip 
between them to the temple itself. 

The Parsee, leading the others, noiselessly crept through 
the wood, and in ten minutes they found themselves on the 
banks of a small stream, whence, by the light of the rosin 
torches, they perceived a pyre of wood, on the top of which 
lay the embalmed body of the rajah, which was to be burned 
with his wife. The pagoda, whose minarets loomed above the 
trees in the deepening dusk, stood a hundred steps away. 

‘‘Come!” whispered the guide. 

He slipped more cautiously than ever through the brush, 
followed by his companions; the silence around was only 
broken by the low murmuring of the wind among the 
branches. 

Soon the Parsee stopped on the borders of the glade, 
which was lit up by the torches. The ground was covered 


352 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

by groups of the Indians, motionless in their drunken sleep ; 
it seemed a battlefield strewn with the dead. Men, women, 
and children lay together. 

In the background, among the trees, the pagoda of 
Pillaji loomed distinctly. Much to the guide’s disappoint- 
ment, the guards of the rajah, lighted by torches, were 
watching at the doors and marching to and fro with naked 
sabres ; probably the priests, too, were watching within. 

The Par see, now convinced that it was impossible to force 
an entrance to the temple, advanced no farther, but led his 
companions back again. Phileas Fogg and Sir Francis 
Cromarty also saw that nothing could be attempted in that 
direction. They stopped, and engaged in a whispered col- 
loquy. 

“It is only eight now,” said the brigadier, “and these 
guards may also go to sleep.” 

“It is not impossible,” returned the Parsee. 

They lay down at the foot of a tree, and waited. 

The time seemed long ; the guide ever and anon left them 
to take an observation on the edge of the wood, but the 
guards watched steadily by the glare of the torches, and a 
dim light crept through the windows of the pagoda. 

They waited till midnight; but no change took place 
among the guards, and it became apparent that their yield- 
ing to sleep could not be counted on. The other plan must 
be carried out ; an opening in the walls of the pagoda must 
be made. It remained to ascertain whether the priests were 
watching by the side of their victim as assiduously as were 
the soldiers at the door. 

After a last consultation, the guide announced that he 
was ready for the attempt, and advanced, followed by the 
others. They took a roundabout way, so as to get at the 
pagoda on the rear. They reached the walls about half-past 
twelve, without having met anyone; here there was no 
guard, nor were there either windows or doors. 

The night was dark. The moon, on the wane, scarcely left 
the horizon, and was covered with heavy clouds ; the height 
of the trees deepened the darkness. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 353 

It was not enough to reach the walls ; an opening in them 
must be accomplished, and to attain this purpose the party 
only had their pocket-knives. Happily the temple walls were 
built of brick and wood, which could be penetrated with little 
difficulty ; after one brick had been taken out, the rest would 
yield easily. 

They set noiselessly to work, and the Parsee on one side 
and Passepartout on the other began to loosen the bricks 
’so as to make an aperture two feet wide. They were getting 
on rapidly, when suddenly a cry was heard in the interior 
of the temple, followed almost instantly by other cries reply- 
ing from the outside. Passepartout and the guide stopped. 
Had they been heard? Was the alarm being given? Common 
prudence urged them to retire, and they did so, followed by 
Phileas Fogg and Sir Francis. They again hid themselves 
in the wood, and waited till the disturbance, whatever it 
might be, ceased, holding themselves ready to resume their 
attempt without delay. But, awkwardly enough, the guards 
now appeared at the rear of the temple, and there installed 
themselves, in readiness to prevent a surprise. 

It would be difficult to describe the disappointment of 
the party, thus interrupted in their work. They could not 
now reach the victim; how, then, could they save her? Sir 
Francis shook his fists. Passepartout was beside himself, and 
the guide gnashed his teeth with rage. The tranquil Fogg 
waited, without betraying any emotion. 

“We have nothing to do but to go away,” whispered Sir 
Francis. 

“Nothing but to go away,” echoed the guide. 

“Stop,” said Fogg. “I am only due at Allahabad to- 
morrow before noon.” 

“But what can you hope to do?” asked Sir Francis. “In 
a few hours it will be daylight, and ” 

“The chance which now seems lost may present itself at 
the last moment.” 

Sir Francis would have liked to read Phileas Fogg’s eyes. 

What was this cool Englishman thinking of? Was he 
planning to make a rush for the young woman at the very 


354 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

moment of the sacrifice, and boldly snatch her from her 
executioners ? 

This would be utter folly, and it was hard to admit that 
Fogg was such a fool. Sir Francis consented, however, to 
remain to the end of this terrible drama. The guide led them 
to the rear of the glade, where they were able to observe the 
sleeping groups. 

Meanwhile Passepartout, who had perched himself on the 
lower branches of a tree, was resolving an idea which had at 
first struck him like a flash, and which was now firmly lodged 
in his brain. 

He had commenced by saying to himself, ^‘What folly!” 
and then he repeated, “Why not, after all.^ It’s a chance — 
perhaps the only one ; and with such sots I” Thinking thus, 
he slipped, with the suppleness of a serpent, to the lowest 
branches, the ends of which bent almost to the ground. 

The hours passed, and the lighter shades now announced 
the approach of day, though it was not yet light. This was 
the moment. The slumbering multitude became animated, 
the tambourines sounded, songs and cries arose; the hour 
of the sacrifice had come. The doors of the pagoda swung 
open, and a bright light escaped from its interior, in the 
midst of which Mr. Fogg and Sir Francis espied the victim. 
She seemed, having shaken off the stupor of intoxication, to 
be striving to escape from her executioner. Sir Francis’s 
heart throbbed; and, convulsively seizing Mr. Fogg’s hand, 
found in it an open knife. Just at this moment the crowd 
began to move. The young woman had again fallen into a 
stupor caused by the fumes of hemp, and passed among the 
fakirs, who escorted her with their wild, religious cries. 

Phileas Fogg and his companions, mingling in the rear 
ranks of the crowd, followed; and in two minutes they 
reached the banks of the stream, and stopped fifty paces 
from the pyre, upon which still lay the rajah’s corpse. 
In the semi-obscurity they saw the victim, quite sense- 
less, stretched out beside her husband’s body. Then a torch 
was brought, and the wood, heavily soaked with oil, instantly 
took fire. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 355 

At this moment Sir Francis and the guide seized Phileas 
^^gg, who, in an instant of mad generosity, was about to 
rush upon the pyre. But he had quickly pushed them aside, 
when the whole scene suddenly changed. A cry of terror 
arose. The whole multiude prostrated themselves, terror^ 
stricken, on the ground. 

The old rajah was not dead, then, since he rose of a 
sudden, like a spectre, took up his wife in his arms, and 
descended from the P3^re in the midst of the clouds of smoke, 
which only heightened his ghostly appearance. 

Fakirs and soldiers and priests, seized with instant terror, 
lay there, with their faces on the ground, not daring to lift 
their eyes and behold such a prodigy. 

The inanimate victim was borne along by the vigorous 
arms which supported her, and which she did not seem in 
the least to burden. Mr. Fogg and Sir Francis stood erect, 
the Parsee bowed his head, and Passepartout was, no doubt, 
scarcely less stupefied. 

The resuscitated rajah approached Sir Francis and Mr. 
Fogg, and, in an abrupt tone, said, “Let us be off !” 

It was Passepartout himself, who had slipped upon the 
pyre in the midst of the smoke and, profiting by the still 
overhanging darkness, had delivered the young woman from 
death! It was Passepartout who, playing his part with a 
happy audacity, had passed through the crowd amid the 
general terror. 

A moment after all four of the party had disappeared in 
the woods, and the elephant was bearing them away at a 
rapid pace. But the cries and noise, and a ball which whizzed 
through Phileas Fogg’s hat, apprised them that the trick 
had been discovered. 

The old rajah’s body, indeed, now appeared upon the 
burning pyre ; and the priests, recovered from their terror, 
perceived that an abduction had taken place. They hastened 
into the forest, followed by the soldiers, who fired a volley 
after the fugitives ; but the latter rapidly increased the dis- 
tance between them, and ere long found themselves beyond 
the reach of the bullets and arrows. 


356 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 


CHAPTER XIV 

IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG DESCENDS THE WHOLE LENGTH OF 
THE BEAUTIFUL VALLEY OF THE GANGES WITHOUT 
EVER THINKING OF SEEING IT 

T HE rash exploit had been accomplished ; and for an hour 
Passepartout laughed gaily at his success. Sir Francis 
pressed the worthy fellow’s hand, and his master said, ‘‘Well 
done!” which, from him, was high commendation; to which 
Passepartout replied that all the credit of the affair be- 
longed to Mr. Fogg. As for him, he had only been struck 
with a “queer” idea ; and he laughed to think that for a few 
moments he. Passepartout, the ex-gymnast, ex-sergeant fire- 
man, had been the spouse of a charming woman, a venerable, 
embalmed rajah! As for the young Indian woman, she had 
been unconscious throughout of what was passing, and now, 
wrapped up in a travelling-blanket, was reposing in one of 
the howdahs. 

The elephant, thanks to the skilful guidance of the Par- 
see, was advancing rapidly through the still darksome forest, 
and, an hour after leaving the pagoda, had crossed a vast 
plain. They made a halt at seven o’clock, the young woman 
being still in a state of complete prostration. The guide 
made her drink a little brandy and water, but the drowsiness 
which stupefied her could not yet be shaken off. Sir Francis, 
who was familiar with the effects of the intoxication pro- 
duced by the fumes of hemp, reassured his companions on 
her account. But he was more disturbed at the prospect of 
her future fate. He told Phileas Fogg that, should Aouda 
remain in India, she would inevitably fall again into the 
hands of her executioners. These fanatics were scattered 
throughout the country, and would, despite the English 
police, recover their victim at Madras, Bombay, or Calcutta. 
She would only be safe by quitting India for ever. 

Phileas Fogg replied that he would reflect upon the 
matter. 

The station at Allahabad was reached about ten o’clock, 
and, the interrupted line of railway being resumed, would 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 357 

enable them to reach Calcutta in less than twenty-four 
hours. Phileas Fogg would thus be able to arrive in time to 
take the steamer which left Calcutta the next day, October 
25th, at noon, for Hong Kong. 

The young woman was placed in one of the waiting-rooms 
of the station, whilst Passepartout was charged with pur- 
chasing for her various articles of toilet, a dress, shawl, and 
some furs ; for which his master gave him unlimited credit. 
Passepartout started off forthwith, and found himself in 
the streets of Allahabad, that is, the City of God, one of the 
most venerated in India, being built at the junction of the 
two sacred rivers, Ganges and Jumna, the waters of which 
attract pilgrims from every part of the peninsula. The 
Ganges, according to the lengends of the Ramayana, rises 
in heaven, whence, owing to Brahma’s agency, it descends 
to the earth. 

Passepartout made it a point, as he made his purchases, 
to take a good look at the city. It was formerly defended 
by a noble fort, which has since become a state prison; its 
commerce has dwindled away, and Passepartout in vain 
looked about him for such a bazaar as he used to frequent 
in Regent Street. At last he came upon an elderly, crusty 
Jew, who sold second-hand articles, and from whom he 
purchased a dress of Scotch stuff, a large mantle, and a fine 
otter-skin pelisse, for which he did not hesitate to pay 
seventy-five pounds. He then returned triumphantly to the 
station. 

The influence to which the priests of Pillaji had subjected 
Aouda began gradually to yield, and she became more her- 
self, so that her fine eyes resumed all their soft Indian ex- 
pression. 

When the poet-king, Ucaf Uddaul, celebrates the charms 
of the queen of Ahmehnagara, he speaks thus : 

‘‘Her shining tresses, divided in two parts, encircle the 
harmonious contour of her white and delicate cheeks, bril- 
liant in their glow and freshness. Her ebony brows have the 
form and charm of the bow of Kama, the god of love, and 
beneath her long silken lashes the purest reflections and a 
celestial light swim, as in the sacred lakes of Himalaya, in 


358 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

the black pupils of her great clear eyes. Her teeth, fine, 
equal, and white, glitter between her smiling lips like dew- 
drops in a passion-flower’s half-enveloped breast. Her deli- 
cately formed ears, her vermilion hands, her little feet, 
curved and tender as the lotus-bud, glitter with the bril- 
liancy of the loveliest pearls of Ceylon, the most dazzling 
diamonds of Golconda. Her narrow and supple waist, which 
a hand may clasp around, sets forth the outline of her 
rounded figure and the beauty of her bosom, where youth 
in its flower displays the wealth of its treasures; and be- 
neath the silken folds of her tunic she seems to have been 
modelled in pure silver by the godlike hand of Vicvarcarma, 
the immortal sculptor.” 

It is enough to say, without applying this poetical rhap- 
sody to Aouda, that she was a charming woman, in all the 
European acceptation of the phrase. She spoke English 
with great purity, and the guide had not exaggerated in 
saying that the young Parsee had been transformed by her 
bringing up. 

The train was about to start from Allahabad, and Mr. 
Fogg proceeded to pay the guide the price agreed upon for 
his service, and not a farthing more; which astonished 
Passepartout, who remembered all that his master owed to 
the guide’s devotion. He had, indeed, risked his life in the 
adventure at Pillaji, and, if he should be caught after- 
wards by the Indians, he would with difficulty escape their 
vengeance. Kiouni, also, must be disposed of. What should 
be done with the elephant, which had been so dearly pur- 
chased.^ Phileas Fogg had already determined this question. 

“Parsee,” said he to the guide, “you have been serviceable 
and devoted. I have paid for your service, but not for your 
devotion. Would you like to have this elephant He is 
yours.” 

The guide’s eyes glistened. 

“Your honour is giving me a fortune!” cried he. 

“Take him, guide,” returned Mr. Fogg, “and I shall still 
be your debtor.” 

“Good!” exclaimed Passepartout. “Take him, friend. 
Kiouni is a brave and faithful beast.” And, going up to the 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 359 

elephant, he gave him several lumps of sugar, saying, “Here, 
Kiouni, here, here.” 

The elephant grunted out his satisfaction, and, clasping 
Passepartout around the waist with his trunk, lifted him 
as high as his head. Passepartout, not in the least alarmed, 
caressed the animal, which replaced him gently on the 
ground. 

Soon after, Phileas Fogg, Sir Francis Cromarty, and 
Passepartout, installed in a carriage with Aouda, who had 
the best seat, were whirling at full speed towards Benares. 
It was a run of eighty miles, and was accomplished in two 
hours. During the journey, the young woman fully recov- 
ered her senses. What was her astonishment to find herself 
in this carriage, on the railway, dressed in European habili- 
ments, and with travellers who were quite strangers to her! 
Her companions first set about fully reviving her with a 
little liquor, and then Sir Francis narrated to her what had 
passed, dwelling upon the courage with which Phileas Fogg 
had not hesitated to risk his life to save her, and recounting 
the happy sequel of the venture, the result of Passepartout’s 
rash idea. Mr. Fogg said nothing ; while Passepartout, 
abashed, kept repeating that “it wasn’t worth telling.” 

Aouda pathetically thanked her deliverers, rather with 
tears than words ; her fine eyes interpreted her gratitude 
better than her lips. Then, as her thoughts strayed back to 
the scene of the sacrifice, and recalled the dangers which 
still menaced her, she shuddered with terror. 

Phileas Fogg understood what was passing in Aouda’s 
mind, and offered, in order to reassure her, to escort her to 
Hong Kong, where she might remain safely until the affair 
was hushed up — an offer which she eagerly and gratefully 
accepted. She had, it seems, a Parsee relation, who was one 
of the principal merchants of Hong Kong, which is wholly 
an English city, though on an island on the Chinese coast. 

At half-past twelve the train stopped at Benares. The 
Brahmin legends assert that this city is built on the site of 
the ancient Casi, which, like Mahomet’s tomb, was once 
suspended between heaven and earth; though the Benares 
of to-day, which the Orientalists call the Athens of India, 


360 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

stands quite unpoetically on the solid earth, Passepartout 
caught glimpses of its brick houses and clay huts, giving 
an aspect of desolation to the place, as the train entered it. 

Benares was Sir Francis Cromarty’s destination, the 
troops he was rejoining being encamped some miles north- 
ward of the city. He bade adieu to Phileas Fogg, wishing 
him all success, and expressing the hope that he would come 
that way again in a less original but more profitable fashion. 
Mr. Fogg lightly pressed him by the hand. The parting of 
Aouda, who did not forget what she owed to Sir Francis, 
betrayed more warmth; and, as for Passepartout, he re- 
ceived a hearty shake of the hand from the gallant general. 

The railway, on leaving Benares, passed for a while along 
the valley of the Ganges. Through the windows of their 
carriage the travellers had glimpses of the diversified land- 
scape of Behar, with its mountains clothed in verdure, its 
fields of barley, wheat, and corn, its jungles peopled with 
green alligators, its neat villages, and its still thickly-leaved 
forests. Elephants were bathing in the waters of the sacred 
river, and groups of Indians, despite the advanced season 
and chilly air, were performing solemnly their pious ablu- 
tions. These were fervent Brahmins, the bitterest foes of 
Buddhism, their deities being Vishnu, the solar god, Shiva, 
the divine impersonation of natural forces, and Brahma, the 
supreme ruler of priests and legislators. What would these 
divinities think of India, anglicised as it is to-day, with 
steamers whistling and scudding along the Ganges, fright- 
ening the gulls which float upon its surface, the turtles 
swarming along its banks, and the faithful dwelling upon 
its borders ? 

The panorama passed before their eyes like a flash, save 
when the steam concealed it fitfully from the view; the 
travellers could scarcely discern the fort of Chupenie, 
twenty miles south-westward from Benares, the ancient 
stronghold of the rajahs of Behar; or Ghazipur and its 
famous rose-water factories ; or the tomb of Lord Cornwallis, 
rising on the left bank of the Ganges ; the fortified town of 
Buxar, or Patna, a large manufacturing and trading-place, 
where is held the principal opium market of India; or 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 361 

Monghir, a more than European town, for it is as English 
as Manchester or Birmingham, with its iron foundries, edge- 
tool factories, and high chimneys puffing clouds of black 
smoke heavenward. 

Night came on; the train passed on at full speed, in the 
midst of the roaring of the tigers, bears, and wolves which 
fled before the locomotive; and the marvels of Bengal, Gol- 
conda, ruined Gour, Murshedabad, the ancient capital, 
Burdwan, Hugly, and the French town of Chandernagor, 
where Passepartout would have been proud to see his coun- 
try’s flag flying, were hidden from their view in the darkness. 

Calcutta was reached at seven in the morning, and the 
packet left for Hong Kong at noon; so that Phileas Fogg 
had five hours before him. 

According to his journal, he was due at Calcutta on the 
25th of October, and that was the exact date of his actual 
arrival. He was therefore neither behind-hand nor ahead of 
time. The two days gained between London and Bombay had 
been lost, as has been seen, in the journey across India. But 
it is not to be supposed that Phileas Fogg regretted them. 


CHAPTER XV 

IN WHICH THE BAG OF BANKNOTES DISGORGES SOME 
THOUSANDS OF POUNDS MORE 

T HE train entered the station, and Passepartout, jumping 
out first, was followed by Mr. Fogg, who assisted his fair 
companion to descend. Phileas Fogg intended to proceed at 
once to the Hong Kong steamer, in order to get Aouda com- 
fortably settled for the voyage. He was unwilling to leave 
her while they were still on dangerous ground. 

Just as he was leaving the station a policeman came up 
to him, and said, “Mr. Phileas Fogg.^” 

“I am he.” 

“Is this man your servant.?” added the policeman, point- 
ing to Passepartout. 

“Yes.” 


S62 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

“Be so good, both of you, as to follow me.” 

Mr. Fogg betrayed no surprise whatever. The policeman 
was a representative of the law, and law is sacred to an Eng- 
lishman. Passepartout tried to reason about the matter, but 
the policeman tapped him with his stick, and Mr. Fogg made 
him a signal to obey. 

“May this young lady go with us.?” asked he. 

“She may,” replied the policeman. 

Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Passepartout were conducted to a 
palkigahri, a sort of four-wheeled carriage, draAvm by two 
horses, in which they took their places and were driven 
away. No one spoke during the twenty minutes which 
elapsed before they reached their destination. They first 
passed through the “black town,” with its narrow streets, 
its miserable, dirty huts, and squalid population ; then 
through the “European town,” which presented a relief in 
its bright brick mansions, shaded by coconut-trees and 
bristling with masts, where, although it was early morning, 
elegantly dressed horsemen and handsome equipages were 
passing back and forth. 

The carriage stopped before a modest-looking house, 
which, however, did not have the appearance of a private 
mansion. The policeman having requested his prisoners — 
for so, truly, they might be called — to descend, conducted 
them into a room with barred windows, and said: “You 
will appear before Judge Obadiah at half-past eight.” 

He then retired, and closed the door. 

“Why, we are prisoners !” exclaimed Passepartout, falling 
into a chair. 

Aouda, with an emotion she tried to conceal, said to Mr. 
Fogg: “Sir, you must leave me to my fate! It is on my ac- 
count that you receive this treatment, it is for having 
saved me I” 

Phileas Fogg contented himself with saying that it was 
impossible. It was quite unlikely that he should be arrested 
for preventing a suttee. The complainants would not dare 
present themselves with such a charge. There was some mis- 
take. Moreover, he would not, in any event, abandon Aouda, 
but would escort her to Hong Kong. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 863 

“But the steamer leaves at noon !” observed Passe- 
partout, nervously. 

“We shall be on board by noon,” replied his master, 
placidly. 

It was said so positively that Passepartout could not help 
muttering to himself, ‘^Parhleu that’s certain! Before noon 
we shall be on board.” But he was by no means reassured. 

At half-past eight the door opened, the policeman ap- 
peared, and, requesting them to follow him, led the way to 
an adjoining hall. It was evidently a court-room, and a 
crowd of Europeans and natives already occupied the rear 
of the apartment. 

Mr. Fogg and his two companions took their places on a 
bench opposite the desks of the magistrate and his clerk. 
Immediately after. Judge Obadiah, a fat, round man, fol- 
lowed by the clerk, entered. He proceeded to take down a 
wig which was hanging on a nail, and put it hurriedly on 
his head. 

“The first* case,” said he. Then, putting his hand to his 
head, he exclaimed, “Heh! This is not my wig!” 

“No, your worship,” returned the clerk, “it is mine.” 

“My dear Mr. Oysterpuff, how can a judge give a wise 
sentence in a clerk’s wig.?” 

The wigs were exchanged. 

Passepartout was getting nervous, for the hands on the 
face of the big clock over the judge seemed to go around 
with terrible rapidity. 

“The first case,” repeated Judge Obadiah. 

“Phileas Fogg.?” demanded Oysterpuff. 

“I am here,” replied Mr. Fogg. 

“Passepartout .?” 

“Present,” responded Passepartout. 

“Good,” said the judge. “You have been looked for, pris- 
oners, for two days on the trains from Bombay.” 

“But of what are we accused?” asked Passepartout, im- 
patiently. 

“You are about to be informed.” 

“I am an English subject, sir,” said Mr. Fogg, “and I 
have the right ” 


364 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

‘‘Have you been ill-treated?” 

“Not at all.” 

“Very well; let the complainants come in.” 

A door was swung open by order of the judge, and three 
Indian priests entered. 

“That’s it,” muttered Passepartout ; “these are the 
rogues who were going to burn our young lady.” 

The priests took their places in front of the judge, and 
the clerk proceeded to read in a loud voice a complaint of 
sacrilege against Phileas Fogg and his servant, who were 
accused of having violated a place held consecrated by the 
Brahmin religion. 

“You hear the charge?” asked the judge. 

“Yes, sir,” replied Mr. Fogg, consulting his watch, “and 
I admit it.” 

“You admit it?” 

“I admit it, and I wish to hear these priests admit, in 
their turn, what they were going to do at the pagoda of 
Pillaji.” 

The priests looked at each other; they did not seem to 
understand what was said. 

“Yes,” cried Passepartout, warmly; “at the pagoda of 
Pillaji, where they were on the point of burning their 
victim.” 

The judge stared with astonishment, and the priests were 
stupefied. 

“What victim?” said Judge Obadiah. “Burn whom? In 
Bombay itself?” 

“Bombay?” cried Passepartout. 

“Certainly. We are not talking of the pagoda of Pillaji, 
but of the pagoda of Malabar Hill, at Bombay.” 

“And as a proof,” added the clerk, “here are the dese- 
crator’s very shoes, which he left behind him.” 

Whereupon he placed a pair of shoes on his desk. 

“My shoes!” cried Passepartout, in his surprise permit- 
ting this imprudent exclamation to escape him. 

The confusion of master and man, who had quite for- 
gotten the affair at Bombay, for which they were now de- 
tained at Calcutta, may be imagined. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 365 

Fix, the detective, had foreseen the advantage which 
Passepartout’s escapade gave him, and, delaying his depar- 
ture for twelve hours, had consulted the priests of Malabar 
Hill. Knowing that the English authorities dealt very 
severely with this kind of misdemeanour, he promised them a 
goodly sum in damages, and sent them forward to Calcutta 
by the next train. Owing to the delay caused by the rescue 
of the young widow. Fix and the priests reached the Indian 
capital before Mr. Fogg and his servant, the magistrates 
having been already warned by a despatch to arrest them 
should they arrive. Fix’s disappointment when he learned 
that Phileas Fogg had not made his appearance in Calcutta 
may be imagined. He made up his mind that the robber had 
stopped somewhere on the route and taken refuge in the 
southern provinces. For twenty-four hours Fix watched the 
station with feverish anxiety; at last he was rewarded by 
seeing Mr. Fogg and Passepartout arrive, accompanied by 
a young woman, whose presence he was wholly at a loss to 
explain. He hastened for a policeman ; and this was how the 
party came to be arrested and brought before Judge 
Obadiah, 

Had Passepartout been a little less preoccupied, he 
would have espied the detective ensconced in a corner of the 
court-room, watching the proceedings with an interest easily 
understood ; for the warrant had failed to reach him at 
Calcutta, as it had done at Bombay and Suez. 

Judge Obadiah had unfortunately Caught Passepartout’s 
rash exclamation, which the poor fellow would have given 
the world to recall. 

‘‘The facts are admitted.^” asked the judge. 

“Admitted,” replied Mr. Fogg, coldly. 

“Inasmuch,” resumed the judge, “as the English law 
protects equally and sternly the religions of the Indian 
people, and as the man Passepartout has admitted that he 
violated the sacred pagoda of Malabar Hill, at Bombay, on 
the 20th of October, I condemn the said Passepartout to im- 
prisonment for fifteen days and a fine of three hundred 
pounds.” 


366 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

“Three hundred pounds !” cried Passepartout, startled at 
the largeness of the sum. 

“Silence!” shouted the constable. 

“And inasmuch,” continued the judge, “as it is not 
proved that the act was not done by the connivance of the 
master with the servant, and as the master in any case must 
be held responsible for the acts of his paid servant, I con- 
demn Phileas Fogg to a week’s imprisonment and a fine of 
one hundred and fifty pounds.” 

Fix rubbed his hands softly with satisfaction; if Phileas. 
Fogg could be detained in Calcutta a week, it would be 
more than time for the warrant to arrive. Passepartout was 
stupefied. This sentence ruined his master. A wager of 
twenty thousand pounds lost, because he, like a precious- 
fool, had gone into that abominable pagoda! 

Phileas Fogg, as self-composed as if the judgment did 
not in the least concern him, did not even lift his eyebrows, 
while it was being pronounced. Just as the clerk was calling: 
the next case, he rose, and said, “I offer bail.” 

“You have that right,” returned the judge. 

Fix’s blood ran cold, but he resumed his composure when, 
he heard the judge announce that the bail required for each 
prisoner would be one thousand pounds. 

“I will pay it at once,” said Mr. Fogg, taking a roll of 
bank-bills from the carpet-bag, which Passepartout had by 
him, and placing them on the clerk’s desk. 

“This sum will be restored to you upon your release from 
prison,” said the judge. “Meanwhile, you are liberated on 
bail.” 

“Come!” said Phileas Fogg to his servant. 

“But let them at least give me back my shoes!” cried 
Passepartout angrily. 

“Ah, tliese are pretty dear shoes!” he muttered, as they 
were handed to him. “More than a thousand pounds apiece ; 
besides, they pinch my feet.” 

Mr. Fogg, offering his arm to Aouda, then departed,, 
followed by the crestfallen Passepartout. Fix still nourished 
hopes that the robber would not, after all, leave the two 
thousand pounds behind him, but would decide to serve out 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 367 

Hs week in jail, and issued forth on Mr. Fogg’s traces. That 
gentleman took a carriage, and the party were soon landed 
■on one of the quad's. 

The Rangoon was moored half a mile off in the harbour, 
its signal of departure hoisted at the mast-head. Eleven 
o’clock was striking; Mr. Fogg was an hour in advance of 
time. Fix saw them leave the carriage and push off in a 
boat for the steamer, and stamped his feet with disappoint- 
ment. 

“The rascal is off, after all!” he exclaimed. “Two thou- 
sand pounds sacrificed! He’s as prodigal as a thief! I’ll 
follow him to the end of the world if necessary ; but, at the 
rate he is going on, the stolen money will soon be exhausted.” 

The detective was not far wrong in making this conjec- 
ture. Since leaving London, what with travelling expenses, 
bribes, the purchase of the elephant, bails, and fines, Mr. 
Fogg had already spent more than five thousand pounds on 
the way, and the percentage of the sum recovered from the 
bank robber, promised to the detectives, was rapidly di- 
minishing. 


CHAPTER XVI 

IN WHICH FIX DOES NOT SEEM TO UNDERSTAND IN THE 
LEAST WHAT IS SAID TO HIM 

TP HE Rangoon — one of the Peninsular and Oriental Com- 
pany’s boats plying in the Chinese and Japanese seas — 
was a screw steamer, built of iron, weighing about seventeen 
hundred and seventy tons, and with engines of four hundred 
horse-power. She was as fast, but not as well fitted up, as 
the Mongolia^ and Aouda was not as comfortably provided 
for on board of her as Phileas Fogg could have wished. 
However, the trip from Calcutta to Hong Kong only com- 
prised some three thousand five hundred miles, occupying 
from ten to twelve days, and the young woman was not 
difficult to please. 

During the first days of the journey Aouda became better 


868 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

acquainted with her protector, and constantly gave evidence 
of her deep gratitude for what he had done. The phleg- 
matic gentleman listened to her, apparently at least, with 
coldness, neither his voice nor his manner betraying the 
slightest emotion; but he seemed to be always on the watch 
that nothing should be wanting to Aouda’s comfort. He 
visited her regularly each day at certain hours, not so much 
to talk himself, as to sit and hear her talk. He treated her 
with the strictest politeness, but with the precision of an 
automaton, the movements of which had been arranged for 
this purpose. Aouda did not quite know what to make of 
him, though Passepartout had given her some hints of his 
master’s eccentricity, and made her smile by telling her of 
the wager which was sending him round the world. After 
all, she owed Phileas Fogg her life, and she always regarded 
him through the exalting medium of her gratitude. 

Aouda confirmed the Parsee guide’s narrative of her 
touching history. She did, indeed, belong to the highest of 
the native races of India. Many of the Parsee merchants 
have made great fortunes there by dealing in cotton ; and 
one of them. Sir Jametsee Jeejeebhoy, was made a baronet 
by the English government. Aouda was a relative of this 
great man, and it was his cousin, Jeejeeh, whom she hoped 
to join at Hong Kong. Whether she would find a protector 
in him she could not tell; but Mr. Fogg essayed to calm 
her anxieties, and to assure her that everything would be 
mathematically — ^he used the very word — arranged. Aouda 
fastened her great eyes, ‘‘clear as the sacred lakes of the 
Himalaya,” upon him ; but the intractable Fogg, as reserved 
as ever, did not seem at all inclined to throw himself inta 
this lake. 

The first few days of the voyage passed prosperously,, 
amid favourable weather and propitious winds, and they 
soon came in sight of the great Andaman, the principal of 
the islands in the Bay of Bengal, with its picturesque Saddle 
Peak, two thousand four hundred feet high, looming above 
the waters. The steamer passed along near the shores, but 
the savage Papuans, who are in the lowest scale of human- 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 369 

ity, but are not, as has been asserted, cannibals, did not 
make their appearance. 

The panorama of the islands, as they steamed by them, 
was superb. Vast forests of palms, arecs, bamboo, teak- 
wood, of the gigantic mimosa, and tree-like ferns covered 
the foreground, while behind, the graceful outlines of the 
mountains were traced against the sky ; and along the 
coasts swarmed by thousands the precious swallows whose 
nests furnish a luxurious dish to the tables of the Celestial 
Empire. The varied landscape afforded by the Andaman 
Islands was soon passed, however, and the Rangoon rapidly 
approached the Straits of Malacca, which gave access to 
the China seas. 

What was detective Fix, so unluckily drawn on from 
country to country, doing all this while? He had managed 
to embark on the Rangoon at Calcutta without being seen 
by Passepartout, after leaving orders that, if the warrant 
should arrive, it should be forwarded to him at Hong Kong ; 
and he hoped to conceal his presence to the end of the voy- 
age. It would have been difficult to explain why he was on 
board without awakening Passepartout’s suspicions, who 
thought him still at Bombay. But necessity impelled him, 
nevertheless, to renew his acquaintance with the worthy 
servant, as will be seen. 

All the detective’s hopes and wishes were now centred on 
Hong Kong; for the steamer’s stay at Singapore would be 
too brief to enable him to take any steps there. The arrest 
must be made at Hong Kong, or the robber would probably 
escape him for ever. Hong Kong was the last English 
ground on which he would set foot; beyond, China, Japan, 
America offered to Fogg an almost certain refuge. If the 
warrant should at last make its appearance at Hong Kong, 
Fix could arrest him and give him into the hands of the 
local police, and there would be no further trouble. But 
beyond Hong Kong, a simple warrant would be of no avail ; 
an extradition warrant would be necessary, and that would 
result in delays and obstacles, of which the rascal would take 
advantage to elude justice. 

Fix thought over these probabilities during the long hours 


370 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

which he spent in his cabin, and kept repeating to himself, 
“Now, either the warrant will be at Hong Kong, in which 
case I shall arrest my man, or it will not be there ; and this 
time it is absolutely necessary that I should delay his de- 
parture. I have failed at Bombay, and I have failed at Cal- 
cutta: if I fail at Hong Kong, my reputation is lost. Cost 
what it may, I mmt succeed! But how shall I prevent his 
departure, if that should turn out to be my last resource?” 

Fix made up his mind that, if worst came to worst, he 
would make a confidant of Passepartout, and tell him what 
kind of a fellow his master really was. That Passepartout 
was not Fogg’s accomplice, he was very certain. The serv- 
ant, enlightened by his disclosure, and afraid of being him- 
self implicated in the crime, would doubtless become an ally 
of the detective. But this method was a dangerous one, only 
to be employed when everything else had failed. A word 
from Passepartout to his master would ruin all. The detec- 
tive was therefore in a sore strait. But suddenly a new idea 
struck him. The presence of Aouda on the Rangoon^ in 
company with Phileas Fogg, gave him new material for 
reflection. 

Who was this woman? What combination of events had 
made her Fogg’s travelling companion? They had evi- 
dently met somewhere between Bombay and Calcutta; but 
where? Had they met accidentally, or had Fogg gone into 
the interior purposely in quest of this charming damsel? 
Fix was fairly puzzled. He asked himself whether there had 
not been a wicked elopement; and this idea so impressed 
itself upon his mind that he determined to make use of the 
supposed intrigue. Whether the young woman were married 
or not, he would be able to create such difficulties for Mr. 
Fogg at Hong Kong that he could not escape by paying 
any amount of money. 

But could he even wait till they reached Hong Kong? 
Fogg had an abominable way of jumping from one boat 
to another, and, before an5rthing could be effected, might 
get full under weigh again for Yokohama. 

Fix decided that he must warn the English authorities, 
and signal the Rangoon before her arrival. This was -easy 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 371 

to do, since the steamer stopped at Singapore, whence there 
is a telegraphic wire to Hong Kong. He finally resolved, 
moreover, before acting more positively, to question Passe- 
partout. It would not be difficult to make him talk; and, 
as there was no time to lose. Fix prepared to make himself 
known. 

It was now the 30th of October, and on the following 
day the Rangoon was due at Singapore. 

Fix emerged from his cabin and went on deck. Passepar- 
tout was promenading up and down in the forward part 
of the steamer. The detective rushed forward with every 
appearance of extreme surprise, and exclaimed, “You here, 
on the Rangoon?^^ 

“What, Monsieur Fix, are you on board returned the 
really astonished Passepartout, recognising his crony of 
the Mongolia. “Why, I left you at Bombay, and here you 
are, on the way to Hong Kong! Are you going round the 
world too.f^” 

“No, no,” replied Fix; “I shall stop at Hong Kong — at 
least for some days.” 

“Hum!” said Passepartout, who seemed for an instant 
perplexed. “But how is it I have not seen you on board 
since we left Calcutta.^” 

“Oh, a trifle of sea-sickness — I’ve been staying in my 
berth. The Gulf of Bengal does not agree with me as well 
as the Indian Ocean. And how is Mr. Fogg.?” 

“As well and as punctual as ever, not a day behind time ! 
But, Monsieur Fix, you don’t know that we have a young 
lady with us.” 

“A young lady.?” replied the detective, not seeming to 
comprehend what was said. 

Passepartout thereupon recounted Aouda’s history, the 
affair at the Bombay pagoda, the purchase of the elephant 
for two thousand pounds, the rescue, the arrest, and sen- 
tence of the Calcutta court, and the restoration of Mr. Fogg 
and himself to liberty on bail. Fix, who was familiar with 
the last events, seemed to be equally ignorant of all that 
Passepartout related; and the latter was charmed to find 
so interested a listener. 


37^ AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

“But does your master propose to carry this young 
woman to Europe?” 

“Not at all. We are simply going to place her under the 
protection of one of her relatives, a rich merchant at Hong 
Kong.” 

“Nothing to be done there,” said Fix to himself, con- 
cealing his disappointment. “A glass of gin, Mr. Passe- 
partout?” 

“Willingly, Monsieur Fix. We must at least have a 
friendly glass on board the Rangoon.^’ 


CHAPTER XVII 

SHOWING WHAT HAPPENED ON THE VOYAGE FROM SINGAPORE 
TO HONG KONG 

T HE detective and Passepartout met often on deck after 
this interview, though Fix was reserved, and did not attempt 
to induce his companion to divulge any more facts concern- 
ing Mr. Fogg. He caught a glimpse of that mysterious 
gentleman once or twice; but Mr. Fogg usually confined 
himself to the cabin, where he kept Aouda company, or, 
according to his inveterate habit, took a hand at whist. 

Passepartout began very seriously to conjecture what 
strange chance kept Fix still on the route that his master 
was pursuing. It was really worth considering why this 
certainly very amiable and complacent person, whom he had 
first met at Suez, had then encountered on board the Mon- 
golia, who disembarked at Bombay, which he announced 
as his destination, and now turned up so unexpectedly on 
the Rangoon, was following Mr. Fogg’s tracks step by step. 
What was Fix’s object? Passepartout was ready to wager 
his Indian shoes — which he religiously preserved — that Fix 
would also leave Hong Kong at the same time with them, 
and probably on the same steamer. 

Passepartout might have cudgelled his brain for a cen- 
tury without hitting upon the real object which the detec- 
tive had in view. He never could have imagined that Phileas 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 873 

Pogg was being tracked as a robber around the globe. But, 
as it is in human nature to attempt the solution of every 
mystery, Passepartout suddenly discovered an explanation 
of Fix’s movements, which was in truth far from unreason- 
able. Fix, he thought, could only be an agent of Mr. Fogg’s 
friends at the Reform Club, sent to follow him up, and to 
ascertain that he really went round the world as had been 
agreed upon. 

“It’s clear!” repeated the worthy servant to himself, 
proud of his shrewdness. “He’s a spy sent to keep us in 
view! That isn’t quite the thing, either, to be spying Mr. 
Fogg, who is so honourable a man! Ah, gentlemen of the 
Reform, this shall cost you dear !” 

Passepartout, enchanted with his discovery, resolved to 
say nothing to his master, lest he should be justly offended 
at this mistrust on the part of his adversaries. But he deter- 
mined to chaff Fix, when he had the chance, with mysterious 
allusions, which, however, need not betray his real suspicions. 

During the afternoon of Wednesday, 30th October, the 
Rangoon entered the Strait of Malacca, which separates the 
peninsula of that name from Sumatra. The mountainous and 
craggy islets intercepted the beauties of this noble island 
from the view of the travellers. The Rangoon weighed 
anchor at Singapore the next day at four a.m., to receive 
coal, having gained half a day on the prescribed time of 
her arrival. Phileas Fogg noted this gain in his journal, 
and then, accompanied by Aouda, who betrayed a desire 
for a walk on shore, disembarked. 

Fix, who suspected Mr, Fogg’s every movement, followed 
them cautiously, without being himself perceived ; while 
Passepartout, laughing in his sleeve at Fix’s manoeuvres, 
went about his usual errands. 

The island of Singapore is not imposing in aspect, for 
there are no mountains; yet its appearance is not without 
attractions. It is a park checkered by pleasant highways 
and avenues. A handsome carriage, drawn by a sleek pair 
of New Holland horses, carried Phileas Fogg and Aouda 
into the midst of rows of palms with brilliant foliage, and 
of clove-trees, whereof the cloves form the heart of a half- 


874 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

open flower. Pepper plants replaced the prickly hedges of 
European fields; sago-bushes, large ferns with gorgeous 
branches, varied the aspect of this tropical clime ; while 
nutmeg-trees in full foliage filled tlie air with a penetrating 
perfume. Agile and grinning bands of monkeys skipped 
about in the trees, nor were tigers wanting in the jungles. 

After a drive of two hours through the country, Aouda 
and Mr. Fogg returned to the town, which is a vast collec- 
tion of heavy-looking, irregular houses, surrounded by 
charming gardens rich in tropical fruits and plants ; and 
at ten o’clock they re-embarked, closely followed by the de- 
tective, who had kept them constantly in sight. 

Passepartout, who had been purchasing several dozen 
mangoes — a fruit as large as good-sized apples, of a dark- 
brown colour outside and a bright red within, and whose 
white pulp, melting in the mouth, affords gourmands a de- 
licious sensation — was waiting for them on deck. He was 
only too glad to offer some mangoes to Aouda, who thanked 
him very gracefully for them. 

^ At eleven o’clock the Rangoon rode out of Singapore 
harbour, and in a few hours the high mountains of Malacca, 
with their forests, inhabited by the most beautifully-furred 
tigers in the world, were lost to view. Singapore is distant 
some thirteen hundred miles from the island of Hong Kong, 
which is a little English colony near the Chinese coast. 
Phileas Fogg hoped to accomplish the journey in six days, 
so as to be in time for the steamer which would leave on 
the 6th of November for Yokohama, the principal Japanese 
port. 

The Rangoon had a large quota of passengers, many of 
whom disembarked at Singapore, among them a number of 
Indians, Ceylonese, Chinamen, Malays, and Portuguese, 
mostly second-class travellers. 

The weather, which had hitherto been fine, changed with 
the last quarter of the moon. The sea rolled heavily, and 
the wind at intervals rose almost to a storm, but happily 
blew from the south-west, and thus aided the steamer’s 
progress. The captain as often as possible put up his sails, 
and under the double action of steam and sail the vessel 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 375 

made rapid progress along the coasts of Anam and Cochin 
China. Owing to the defective construction of the Rangoon^ 
however, unusual precautions became necessary in unfav- 
ourable weather ; but the loss of time which resulted from 
this cause, while it nearly drove Passepartout out of his 
senses, did not seem to affect his master in the least. Passe- 
partout blamed the captain, the engineer, and the crew, and 
consigned all who were connected with the ship to the land 
where the pepper grows. Perhaps the thought of the gas, 
which was remorselessly burning at his expense in Saville 
Row, had something to do with his hot impatience. 

“You are in a great hurry, then,” said Fix to him one 
day, “to reach Hong Kong.^” 

“A very great hurry !” 

“Mr. Fogg, I suppose, is anxious to catch the steamer 
for Yokohama?” 

“Terribly anxious.” 

“You believe in this journey around the world, then?” 

“Absolutely. Don’t you, Mr. Fix?” 

“I? I don’t believe a word of it.” 

“You’re a sly dog!” said Passepartout, winking at him. 

This expression rather disturbed Fix, without his know- 
ing why. Had the Frenchman guessed his real purpose? He 
knew not what to think. But how could Passepartout have 
discovered that he was a detective? Yet, in speaking as he 
did, the man evidently meant more than he expressed. 

Passepartout went still further the next day; he could 
not hold his tongue. 

“Mr. Fix,” said he, in a bantering tone, “shall we be so 
unfortunate as to lose you when we get to Hong Kong?” 

“Why,” responded Fix, a little embarrassed, “I don’t 
know ; perhaps ” 

“Ah, if you would only go on with us! An agent of the 
Peninsular Company, you know, can’t stop on the way! 
You were only going to Bombay, and here you are in China. 
America is not far off, and from America to Europe is only 
a step.” 

Fix looked intently at his companion, whose countenance 
was as serene as possible, and laughed with him. But Passe- 


376 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

partout persisted in chaffing him by asking him if he made 
much by his present occupation. 

‘‘Yes, and no,” returned Fix; “there is good and bad 
luck in such things. But you must understand that I don’t 
travel at my own expense.” 

“Oh, I am quite sure of that!” cried Passepartout, 
laughing heartily. 

Fix, fairly puzzled, descended to his cabin and gave him- 
self up to his reflections. He was evidently suspected ; some- 
how or other the Frenchman had found out that he was a 
detective. But had he told his master.? What part was he 
playing in all this: was he an accomplice or not.? Was the 
game, then, up.? Fix spent several hours turning these 
things over in his mind, sometimes thinking that all was 
lost, then persuading himself that Fogg was ignorant of his 
presence, and then undecided what course it was best to 
take. 

Nevertheless, he preserved his coolness of mind, and at 
last resolved to deal plainly with Passepartout. If he did 
not find it practicable to arrest Fogg at Hong Kong, and 
if Fogg made preparations to leave that last foothold of 
English territory, he. Fix, would tell Passepartout all. 
Either the servant was the accomplice of his master, and 
in this case the master knew of his operations, and he should 
fail; or else the servant knew nothing about the robbery, 
and then his interest would be to abandon the robber. 

Such was the situation between Fix and Passepartout. 
Meanwhile Phileas Fogg moved about above them in the 
most majestic and unconscious indifference. He was passing 
methodically in his orbit around the world, regardless of 
the lesser stars which gravitated around him. Yet there was 
near by what the astronomers would call a disturbing star, 
which might have produced an agitation in this gentleman’s 
heart. But no I the charms of Aouda failed to act, to Passe- 
partout’s great surprise; and the disturbances, if they ex- 
isted, would have been more difficult to calculate than those 
of Uranus which led to the discovery of Neptune. 

It was every day an increasing wonder to Passepartout, 
who read in Aouda’s eyes the depths of her gratitude to 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 377 

his master. Phileas Fogg, though brave and gallant, must 
be, he thought, quite heartless. As to the sentiment which 
this journey might have awakened in him, there was clearly 
no trace of such a thing; while poor Passepartout existed 
in perpetual reveries. 

One day he was leaning on the railing of the engine-room, 
and was observing the engine, when a sudden pitch of the 
steamer threw the screw out of the water. The steam came 
hissing out of the valves ; and this made Passepartout 
indignant. 

‘‘The valves are not sufficiently charged!” he exclaimed. 
“We are not going. Oh, these English! If this was an 
American craft, we should blow up, perhaps, but we should 
at all events go faster !” 


CHAPTER XVIII 

IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG, PASSEPARTOUT, AND FIX GO EACH 
ABOUT HIS BUSINESS 

T HE weather was bad during the latter days of the voyage. 
The wind, obstinately remaining in Ihe north-west, blew a 
gale, and retarded the steamer. The Rangoon rolled heavily 
and the passengers became impatient of the long, monstrous 
waves which the wind raised before their path. A sort of 
tempest arose on the 3rd of November, the squall knocking 
the vessel about with fury, and the waves running high. The 
Rangoon reefed all her sails, and even the rigging proved 
too much, whistling and shaking amid the squall. The 
steamer was forced to proceed slowly, and the captain esti- 
mated that she would reach Hong Kong twenty hours be- 
hind time, and more if the storm lasted. 

Phileas Fogg gazed at the tempestuous sea, which seemed 
to be struggling especially to delay him, with his habitual 
tranquillity. He never changed countenance for an instant, 
though a delay of twenty hours, by making him too late 
for the Yokohama boat, would almost inevitably cause the 
loss of the wager. But this man of nerve manifested neither 


378 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

impatience nor annoyance; it seemed as if the storm were a 
part of his programme, and had been foreseen. Aouda was 
amazed to find him as calm as he had been from the first 
time she saw him. 

Fix did not look at the state of things in the same light. 
The storm greatly pleased him. His satisfaction would have 
been complete had the Rangoon been forced to retreat before 
the violence of wind and waves. Each delay filled him with 
hope, for it became more and more probable that Fogg 
would be obliged to remain some days at Hong Kong; and 
now the heavens themselves became his allies, with the gusts 
and squalls. It mattered not that they made him sea-sick — 
he made no account of this inconvenience; and, whilst his 
body was writhing under their effects, his spirit bounded 
with hopeful exultation. 

Passepartout was enraged beyond expression by the un- 
propitious weather. Everything had gone so well till now! 
Earth and sea had seemed to be at his master’s service; 
steamers and railways obeyed him; wind and steam united 
to speed his journey. Had the hour of adversity come? 
Passepartout was as much excited as if the twenty thou- 
sand pounds were to come from his own pocket. The storm 
exasperated him, the gale made him furious, and he longed 
to lash the obstinate sea into obedience. Poor fellow! Fix 
carefully concealed from him his own satisfaction, for, had 
he betrayed it. Passepartout could scarcely have restrained 
himself from personal violence. 

Passepartout remained on deck as long as the tempest 
lasted, being unable to remain quiet below, and taking it 
into his head to aid the progress of the ship by lending a 
hand with the crew. He overwhelmed the' captain, officers, 
and sailors, who could not help laughing at his impatience, 
with all sorts of questions. He wanted to know exactly how 
long the storm was going to last ; whereupon he was referred 
to the barometer, which seemed to have no intention of ris- 
ing. Passepartout shook it, but with no perceptible effect; 
for neither shaking nor maledictions could prevail upon it 
to change its mind. 


AROUND THE WORDD IN EIGHTY DAYS 379 

On the 4th, however, the sea became more calm, and the 
storm lessened its violence; the wind veered southward, and 
was once more favourable. Passepartout cleared up with 
the weather. Some of the sails were unfurled, and the 
Rangoon resumed its most rapid speed. The time lost could 
not, however, be regained. Land was not signalled until five 
o’clock on the morning of the 6th; the steamer was due on 
the 5th. Phileas Fogg was twenty-four hours behind-hand, 
and the Yokohama steamer would, of course, be missed. 

The pilot went on board at six, and took his place on the 
bridge, to guide the Rangoon through the channels to the 
port of Hong Kong. Passepartout longed to ask him if the 
steamer had left for Yokohama ; but he dared not, for he 
wished to preserve the spark of hope, which still remained 
till the last moment. He had confided his anxiety to Fix 
who — the sly rascal! — tried to console him by saying that 
Mr. Fogg would be in time if he took the next boat; but 
this only put Passepartout in a passion. 

Mr. Fogg, bolder than his servant, did not hesitate to 
approach the pilot, and tranquilly ask him if he knew when 
a steamer would leave Hong Kong for Yokohama. 

“At high tide to-morrow morning,” answered the pilot. 

“Ah!” said Mr. Fogg, without betraying any astonish- 
ment. 

Passepartout, who heard what passed, would willingly 
have embraced the pilot, while Fix would have been glad 
to twist his neck. 

“What is the steamer’s name.?” asked Mr. Fogg. 

“The Carnatic.^’ 

“Ought she not to have gone yesterday.?” 

“Yes, sir; but they had to repair one of her boilers, and 
so her departure was postponed till to-morrow.” 

“Thank you,” returned Mr. Fogg, descending mathe- 
matically to the saloon. 

Passepartout clasped the pilot’s hand and shook it heart- 
ily in his delight, exclaiming, “Pilot, you are the best of 
good fellows!” 

The pilot probably does not know to this day why his 


380 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

responses won him this enthusiastic greeting. He remounted 
the bridge, and guided the steamer through tlie flotilla of 
junks, tankas, and fishing boats which crowd the harbour 
of Hong Kong. 

At one o’clock the Rangoon was at the quay, and the 
passengers were going ashore. 

Chance had strangely favoured Phileas Fogg, for had 
not the Carnatic been forced to lie over for repairing her 
boilers, she would have left on the 6th of November, and 
the passengers for Japan would have been obliged to awaifc 
for a week the sailing of the next steamer. Mr. Fogg was, 
it is true, twenty-four hours behind his time ; but this could 
not seriously imperil the remainder of his tour. 

The steamer which crossed the Pacific from Yokohama 
to San Francisco made a direct connection with that from 
Hong Kong, and it could not sail until the latter reached 
Yokohama; and if Mr. Fogg was twenty-four hours late 
on reaching Yokohama, this time would no doubt be easily 
regained in the voyage of twenty-two days across the 
Pacific. He found himself, then, about twenty-four hours 
behind-hand, thirty-five days after leaving London. 

The Carnatic was announced to leave Hong Kong at five 
the next morning. Mr. Fogg had sixteen hours in which to 
attend to his business there, which was to deposit Aouda 
safely with her wealthy relative. 

On landing, he conducted her to a palanquin, in which 
they repaired to the Club Hotel. A room was engaged for 
the young woman, and Mr. Fogg, after seeing that she 
wanted for nothing, set out in search of her cousin Jeejeeh. 
He instructed Passepartout to remain at the hotel until 
his return, that Aouda might not be left entirely alone. 

Mr. Fogg repaired to the Exchange, where, he did not 
doubt, every one would know so wealthy and considerable 
a personage as the Parsee merchant. Meeting a broker, he 
made the inquiry, to learn that Jeejeeh had left China two 
years before, and, retiring from business with an immense 
fortune, had taken up his residence in Europe — in Holland 
the broker thought, with the merchants of which country 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 381 

he had principally traded. Phileas Fogg returned to the 
hotel, begged a moment’s conversation with Aouda, and, 
without more ado, apprised her that Jeejeeh was no longer 
at Hong Kong, but probably in Holland. 

Aouda at first said nothing. She passed her hand across 
her forehead, and reflected a few moments. Then, in her 
sweet, soft voice, she said: “What ought I to do, Mr. Fogg.?” 

“It is very simple,” responded the gentleman. “Go on to 
Europe.” 

“But I cannot intrude ” 

“You do not intrude, nor do you in the least embarrass 
my project. Passepartout!” 

“Monsieur.” 

“Go to the Carnatic, and engage three cabins.” 

Passepartout, delighted that the young woman, who was 
very gracious to him, was going to continue the journey 
with them, went off at a brisk gait to obey his master’s 
order. 


CHAPTER XIX 

IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT TAKES A TOO GREAT INTEREST IN 
HIS MASTER, AND WHAT COMES OF IT 

H ONG Kong is an island which came into the possession 
of the English by the Treaty of Nankin, after the war of 
1842 ; and the colonising genius of the English has created 
upon it an important city and an excellent port. The island 
is situated at the mouth of the Canton River, and is sepa- 
rated by about sixty miles from the Portuguese town of 
Macao, on the opposite coast. Hong Kong has beaten 
Macao in the struggle for the Chinese trade, and now the 
greater part of the transportation of Chinese goods finds its 
depot at the former place. Docks, hospitals, wharves, a 
Gothic cathedral, a government house, macadamised streets, 
give to Hong Kong the appearance of a town in Kent or 
Surrey transferred by some strange magic to the antipodes. 


882 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

Passepartout wandered, with his hands in his pockets, 
towards the Victoria port, gazing as he went at the curious 
palanquins and other modes of conveyance, and the groups 
of Chinese, Japanese, and Europeans who passed to and fro 
in the streets. Hong Kong seemed to him not unlike Bom- 
bay, Calcutta, and Singapore, since, like them, it betrayed 
everywhere the evidence of English supremacy. At the Vic- 
toria port he found a confused mass of ships of all nations : 
English, French, American, and Dutch, men-of-war and 
trading vessels, Japanese and Chinese junks, sempas, 
tankas, and flower-boats, which formed so many floating 
parterres. Passepartout noticed in the crowd a number of 
the natives who seemed very old and were dressed in yellow. 
On going into a barber’s to get shaved he learned that these 
ancient men were all at least eighty years old, at which age 
they are permitted to wear yellow, which is the Imperial 
colour. Passepartout, without exactly knowing why, thought 
this very funny. 

On reaching the quay where they were to embark on the 
Carnatic^ he was not astonished to find Fix walking up and 
down. The detective seemed very much disturbed and dis- 
appointed. 

“This is bad,” muttered Passepartout, “for the gentle- 
men of the Reform Club!” He accosted Fix with a merry 
smile, as if he had not perceived that gentleman’s chagrin. 
The detective had, indeed, good reasons to inveigh against 
the bad luck which pursued him. The warrant had not 
come I It was certainly on the way, but as certainly it could 
not now reach Hong Kong for several days ; and, this being 
the last English territory on Mr. Fogg’s route, the robber 
would escape, unless he could manage to detain him. 

“Well, Monsieur Fix,” said Passepartout, “have you de- 
cided to go with us so far as America 

“Yes,” returned Fix, through his set teeth. 

“Good!” exclaimed Passepartout, laughing heartily. “I 
kne\\ you could not persuade yourself to separate from us. 
Come and engage your berth.” 

They entered the steamer office and secured cabins for 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 683 

four persons. The clerk, as he gave them the tickets, in- 
formed them that, the repairs on the Carnatic having been 
completed, the steamer would leave that very evening, and 
not next morning, as had been announced. 

‘‘That will suit my master all the better,” said Passe- 
partout. “I will go and let him know.” 

Fix now decided to make a bold move ; he resolved to tell 
Passepartout all. It seemed to be the only possible means of 
keeping Phileas Fogg several days longer at Hong Kong. 
He accordingly invited his companion into a tavern which 
caught his eye on the quay. On entering, they found them- 
selves in a large room handsomely decorated, at the end of 
which was a large camp-bed furnished with cushions. Sev- 
eral persons lay upon this bed in a deep sleep. At the small 
tables which were arranged about the room some thirty 
customers were drinking English beer, porter, gin, and 
brandy; smoking, the while, long red clay pipes stuffed 
with little balls of opium mingled with essence of rose. From 
time to time one of the smokers, overcome with the narcotic, 
would slip under the table, whereupon the waiters, taking 
him by the head and feet, carried and laid him upon the 
bed. The bed already supported twenty of these stupefied 
sots. 

Fix and Passepartout saw that they were in a smoking- 
house haunted by those wretched, cadaverous, idiotic crea- 
tures to whom the English merchants sell every year the 
miserable drug called opium, to the amount of one million 
four hundred thousand pounds — thousands devoted to one 
of the most despicable vices which afflict humanity! The 
Chinese government has in vain attempted to deal with the 
evil by stringent laws. It passed gradually from the rich, 
to whom it was at first exclusively reserved, to the lower 
classes, and then its ravages could not be arrested. Opium 
is smoked everywhere, at all times, by men and women, in 
the Celestial Empire; and, once accustomed to it, the vic- 
tims cannot dispense with it, except by suffering horrible 
bodily contortions and agonies. A great smoker can smoke 
as many as eight pipes a day ; but he dies in five years. It 
was in one of these dens that Fix and Passepartout, in search 


SS4i AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

of a friendly glass, found themselves. Passepartout had no 
money, but willingly accepted Fix’s invitation in the hope 
of returning the obligation at some future time. 

They ordered two bottles of port, to which the French- 
man did ample justice, whilst Fix observed him with close 
attention. They chatted about the journey, and Passepar- 
tout was especially merry at the idea that Fix was going 
to continue it with them. When the bottles were empty, how- 
ever, he rose to go and tell his master of the change in the 
time of the sailing of the Carnatic, 

Fix caught him by the arm, and said, ‘^Wait a moment.” 

‘‘What for, Mr. Fix.?” 

“I want to have a serious talk with you.” 

“A serious talk!” cried Passepartout, drinking up the 
little wine that was left in the bottom of his glass. “Well, 
we’ll talk about it to-morrow; I haven’t time now.” 

“Stay I What I have to say concerns your master.” 

Passepartout, at this, looked attentively at his compan- 
ion. Fix’s face seemed to have a singular expression. He 
resumed his seat. 

“What is it that you have to say.?” 

Fix placed his hand upon Passepartout’s" arm, and, 
lowering his voice, said, “You have guessed who I am.?” 

^^ParbleuT^ said Passepartout, smiling. 

“Then I’m going to tell you everything ” 

“Now that I know everything, my friend! Ah! that’s very 
good. But go on, go on. First, though, let me tell you that 
those gentlemen have put themselves to a useless expense.” 

“Useless!” said Fix. “You speak confidently. It’s clear 
that you don’t know how large the sum is.” 

“Of course I do,” returned Passepartout. “Twenty thou- 
sand pounds.” 

“Fifty-five thousand!” answered Fix, pressing his com- 
panion’s hand. 

“What!” cried the Frenchman. “Has Monsieur Fogg 
dared — fifty-five thousand pounds! Well, there’s all the 
more reason for not losing an instant,” he continued, getting 
up hastily. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 385 

Fix pushed P assepartout back in his chair, and resumed : 
“Fifty-five thousand pounds; and if I succeed, I get two 
thousand pounds. If you’ll help me. I’ll let you have five 
hundred of them.” 

“Help you.^” cried Passepartout, whose eyes were stand-* 
ing wide open. 

“Yes; help me keep Mr. Fogg here for two or three 
days.” 

“Why, what are you saying.^ Those gentlemen are not 
satisfied with following my master and suspecting his hon- 
our, but they must try to put obstacles in his way! I blush 
for them!” 

“What do you mean.?^” 

“I mean that it is a piece of shameful trickery. They 
might as well waylay Mr. Fogg and put his money in their 
pockets !” 

“That’s just what we count on doing.” 

“It’s a conspiracy, then,” cried Passepartout, who be- 
came more and more excited as the liquor mounted in his 
head, for he drank without perceiving it. “A real conspir- 
acy! And gentlemen, too. Bah!” 

Fix began to be puzzled. 

“Members of the Reform Club !” continued Passepartout. 
“You must know. Monsieur Fix, that my master is an hon- 
est man, and that, when he makes a wager, he tries to win 
it fairly !” 

“But who do you think I am.?” asked Fix, looking at him 
intently. 

^‘Parhleu! An agent of the members of the Reform Club, 
sent out here to interrupt my master’s journey. But, though 
I found you out some time ago, I’ve taken good care to saj 
nothing about it to Mr. Fogg.” 

“He knows nothing, then.?” 

“Nothing,” replied Passepartout, again emptying his 
glass. 

The detective passed his hand across his forehead, hesi- 
tating before he spoke again. What should he do? Passe- 
partout’s mistake seemed sincere, but it made his design 


386 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

more difficult. It was evident that the servant was not the 
master’s accomplice, as Fix had been inclined to suspect. 

“Well,” said the detective to himself, “as he is not an 
accomplice, he will help me.” 

He had no time to lose : Fogg must be detained at Hong 
Kong, so he resolved to make a clean breast of it. 

“Listen to me,” said Fix abruptly. “I am not, as you 
think, an agent of the members of the Reform C^ub ” 

“Bah!” retorted Passepartout, with an air of raillery. 

“I am a police detective, sent out here by the London 
office.” 

“You, a detective.^” 

“I will prove it. Here is my commission.” 

Passepartout was speechless with astonishment when Fix 
displayed this document, the genuineness of which could 
not be doubted. 

“Mr. Fogg’s wager,” resumed Fix, “is only a pretext, 
of which you and the gentlemen of the Reform are dupes. 
He had a motive for securing your innocent complicity.” 

“But why.f^” 

“Listen. On the 28 th of last September a robbery of 
fifty-five thousand pounds was committed at the Bank of 
England by a person whose description was fortunately 
secured. Here is this description ; it answers exactly to that 
of Mr. Phileas Fogg.” 

“What nonsense!” cried Passepartout, striking the table 
with his fist. “My master is the most honourable of men!” 

“How can you tell? You know scarcely anything about 
him. You went into his service the day he came away; and 
he came away on a foolish pretext, without trunks, and 
carrying a large amount in banknotes. And yet you are 
bold enough to assert that he is an honest man !” 

“Yes, yes,” repeated the poor fellow, mechanically. 

“Would you like to be arrested as his accomplice 

Passepartout, overcome by what he had heard, held his 
head between his hands, and did not dare to look at the 
detective. Phileas Fogg, the saviour of Aouda, that brave 
and generous man, a robber! And yet how many presump- 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 887 

tions there were against him! Passepartout essayed to reject 
the suspicions which forced themselves upon his mind; he 
did not wish to believe that his master was guilty. 

“Well, what do you want of me.^” said he, at last, with 
an effort. 

“See here,” replied Fix; “I have tracked Mr. Fogg to 
this place, but as yet I have failed to receive the warrant of 
arrest for which I sent to London. You must help me to 
keep him here in Hone; Kong* ” 

«I!ButI ” 

“I will share with you the two thousand pounds reward 
offered by the Bank of England.” 

“Never!” replied Passepartout, who tried to rise, but fell 
back, exhausted in mind and body. 

“Mr. Fix,” he stammered, “even should what you say 
be true — if my master is really the robber you are seeking 
for — which I dpny — I have been, am, in his service; I have 
seen his generosity and goodness; and I will never betray 
him — ^not for all the gold in the world. I come from a, village 
where they don’t eat that kind of bread!” 

“You refuse.^” 

“I refuse.” 

“Consider that I’ve said nothing,” said Fix; “and let us 
drink.” 

“Yes ; let us drink !” 

Passepartout felt himself yielding more and more to the 
effects of the liquor. Fix, seeing that he must, at all haz- 
ards, be separated from his master, wished to entirely over- 
come him. Some pipes full of opium lay upon the table. Fix 
slipped one into Passepartout’s hand. He took it, put it be- 
tween his lips, lit it, drew several puffs, and his head, be- 
coming heavy under the influence of the narcotic, fell upon 
the table. 

“At last!” said Fix, seeing Passepartout unconscious. 
“Mr. Fogg will not be informed of the Carnatic's departure ; 
and, if he is, he will have to go without this cursed French- 
man !” 

And, after paying his bill. Fix left the tavern. 


388 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 


CHAPTER XX 

IN WHICH FIX COMES FACE TO FACE WITH PHILEAS FOGG 

W HIDE these events were passing at the opium-house, 
Mr. Fogg, unconscious of the danger he was in of losing 
the steamer, was quietly escorting Aouda about the streets 
of the English quarter, making the necessary purchases for 
the long voyage before them. It was all very well for an 
Englishman like Mr. Fogg to make the tour of the world 
with a carpet-bag; a lady could not be expected to travel 
comfortably under such conditions. He acquitted his task 
with characteristic serenity, and invariably replied to the 
remonstrances of his fair companion, who was confused by 
his patience and generosity: 

“It is in the interest of my journey — a part of my pro- 
gramme.” 

The purchases made, they returned to the hotel, where 
they dined at a sumptuously served table-d'hSte ; after 
which Aouda, shaking hands with her protector after the 
English fashion, retired to her room for rest. Mr. Fogg ab- 
sorbed himself throughout the evening in the perusal of The 
Times and Illustrated London News. 

Had he been capable of being astonished at anything, it 
would have been not to see his servant return at bedtime. 
But, knowing that the steamer was not to leave for Yoko- 
hama until the next morning, he did not disturb himself 
about the matter. When Passepartout did not appear the 
next .morning to answer his master’s bell, Mr. Fogg, not 
betraying the least vexation, contented liimself with taking 
his carpet-bag, calling Aouda, and sending for a palanquin. 

It was then eight o’clock ; at half-past nine, it being then 
high tide, the Carnatic would leave the harbour. Mr. Fogg 
and Aouda got into the palanquin, their luggage being 
brought after on a wheelbarrow, and half an hour later 
stepped upon the quay whence they were to embark. Mr. 
Fogg then learned that the Carnatic had sailed the evening 
before. He had expected to lind not only the steamer, but 
his domestic, and was forced to give up both; but no sign 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 389 

of disappointment appeared on his face, and he merely re- 
marked to Aouda, “It is an accident, madam ; nothing 
more.” 

At this moment a man who had been observing him at- 
tentively approached. It was Fix, who, bowing, addressed 
Mr. Fogg: “Were you not, like me, sir, a passenger by 
the Rangoon^ which arrived yesterday?” 

“I was, sir,” replied Mr. Fogg coldly. “But I have not 
the honour ” 

“Pardon me; I thought I should find your servant here.” 

“Do you know where he is, sir?” asked Aouda anxiously. 

“What!” responded Fix, feigning surprise. “Is he not 
with you?” 

“No,” said Aouda. “He has not made his appearance 
since yesterday. Could he have gone on board the Carnatic 
without us?” 

“Without you, madam?” answered the detective. “Ex- 
cuse me, did you intend to sail in the Carnatic?^^ 

“Yes, sir.” 

“So did I, madam, and I am excessively disappointed. 
The Carnatic, its repairs being completed, left Hong Kong 
twelve hours before the stated time, without any notice be- 
ing given; and we must now wait a week for another 
steamer.” 

As he said “a week” Fix felt his heart leap for joy. Fogg 
detained at Hong Kong for a week! There would be time 
for the warrant to arrive, and fortune at last favoured the 
representative of the law. His horror may be imagined when 
he heard Mr. Fogg say, in his placid voice, “But there are 
other vessels besides the Carnatic, it seems to me, in the har- 
bour of Hong Kong.” 

And, offering his arm to Aouda, he directed his steps 
toward the docks in search of some craft about to start. 
Fix, stupefied, followed; it seemed as if he were attached 
to Mr. Fogg by an invisible thread. Chance, however, ap- 
peared really to have abandoned the man it had hitherto 
served so well. For three hours Phileas Fogg wandered 
about the docks, with the determination, if necessary, to 
charter a vessel to carry him to* Yokohama; but he could 


690 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

only find vessels which were loading or unloading, and 
which could not therefore set sail. Fix began to hope again. 

But Mr. Fogg, far from being discouraged, was continu- 
ing his search, resolved not to stop if he had to resort to 
Macao, when he was accosted by a sailor on one of the 
wharves. 

“Is your honour looking for a boat.^” 

“Have you a boat ready to sail.^” 

“Yes, your honour ; a pilot-boat — No. 46 — the best in 
the harbour.” 

“Does she go fast.^^” 

“Between eight and nine knots the hour. Will you look 
at her.?” 

“Yes.” 

“Your honour will be satisfied with her. Is it for a sea 
excursion .?” 

“No; for a voyage.” 

“A voyage.?” 

“Yes; will you agree to take me to Yokohama.?” 

The sailor leaned on the railing, opened his eyes wide, and 
said, “Is your honour joking.?” 

“No. I have missed the Carnatic, and I must get to Yoko- 
hama by the 14th at the latest, to take the boat for San 
Francisco.” 

“I am sorry,” said the sailor; “but it is impossible.” 

“I offer you a hundred pounds per day, and an additional 
reward of two hundred pounds if I reach Yokohama in 
time.” 

“Are you in earnest.?” 

“Very much so.” 

The pilot walked away a little distance, and gazed out 
to sea, evidently struggling between the anxiety to gain a 
large sum and the fear of venturing so far. Fix was in 
mortal suspense. 

Mr. Fogg turned to Aouda and asked her, “You would 
not be afraid, would you, madam.?” 

“Not with you, Mr. Fogg,” was her answer. 

The pilot now returned, shuffling his hat in his hands. 

“Well, pilot.?” said Mr. Fogg. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 391 


“Well, your honour,” replied he, “I could not risk my- 
self, my men, or my little boat of scarcely twenty tons on 
so long a voyage at this time of year. Besides, we could not 
reach Yokohama in time, for it is sixteen hundred and sixty 
miles from Hong Kong.” 

“Only sixteen hundred,” said Mr. Fogg. 

“It’s the same thing.” 

Fix breathed more freely. 

“But,” added the pilot, “it might be arranged another 
way.” 

Fix ceased to breathe at all. 

“How?” asked Mr. Fogg. 

“By going to Nagasaki, at the extreme south of Japan, 
or even to Shanghai, which is only eight hundred miles 
from here. In going to Shanghai we should not be forced 
to sail wide of the Chinese coast, which would be a great 
advantage, as the currents run northward, and would aid 
us.” 

“Pilot,” said Mr. Fogg, “I must take the American 
steamer at Yokohama, and not at Shanghai or Nagasaki.’^ 

“Why not?” returned the pilot. “The San Francisco 
steamer does not start from Yokohama. It puts in at Yoko- 
hama and Nagasaki, but it starts from Shanghai.” 

“You are sure of that?” 

“Perfectly.” 

“And when does the boat leave Shanghai?” 

“On the 11th, at seven in the evening. We have, there- 
fore, four days before us, that is ninety-six hours; and in 
that time, if we had good luck and a south-west wind, and 
the sea was calm, we could make those eight hundred miles 
to Shanghai.” 

“And you could go ” 

“In an hour; as soon as provisions could be got aboard 
and the sails put up.” 

“It is a bargain. Are you the master of the boat?” 

“Yes; John Bunsby, master of the Tankadere,^^ 

“Would you like some earnest-money?” 

“If it would not put your honour out ” 

“Here are two hundred pounds on account sir,” added 


392 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

Phileas Fogg, turning to Fix, “if you would like to take 
advantage ” 

“Thanks, sir; I was about to ask the favour.” 

“Very well. In half an hour we shall go on board.” 

“But poor Passepartout.^” urged Aouda, who was much 
disturbed by the servant’s disappearance. 

“I shall do all I can to find him,” replied Phileas Fogg. 

While Fix, in a feverish, nervous state, repaired to the 
pilot-boat, the others directed their course to the police- 
station at Hong Kong. Phileas Fogg there gave Passepar- 
tout’s description, and left a sum of money to be spent in 
the search for him. The same formalities having been gone 
through at the French consulate, and the palanquin having 
stopped at the hotel for the luggage, which had been sent 
back there, they returned to the wharf. 

It was now three o’clock ; and pilot-boat No. 43, with its 
crew on board, and its provisions stored away, was ready 
for departure. 

The Tanhadere was a neat little craft of twenty tons, as 
gracefully built as if she were a racing yacht. Her shining 
copper sheathing, her galvanised iron-work, her deck, white 
as ivory, betrayed the pride taken by J ohn Bunsby in mak- 
ing her presentable. Her two masts leaned a trifle back- 
ward; she carried brigantine, foresail, storm- jib, and stand- 
ing-jib, and was well rigged for running before the wind; 
and she seemed capable of brisk speed, which, indeed, she 
had already proved by gaining several prizes in pilot-boat 
races. The crew of the Tankadere was composed of John 
Bunsby, the master, and four hardy mariners, who were 
familiar with the Chinese seas. John Bunsby, himself, a 
man of forty-five or thereabouts, vigorous, sunburnt, with 
a sprightly expression of the eye, and energetic and self- 
reliant countenance, would have inspired confidence in the 
most timid. 

Phileas Fogg and Aouda went on board, where they found 
Fix already installed. Below deck was a square cabin, of 
which the walls bulged out in the form of cots, above a 
circular divan; in the centre was a table provided with a 
swinging lamp. The accommodation was confined, but neat. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 393 

“I am sorry to have nothing better to offer you,” said 
Mr. Fogg to Fix, who bowed without responding. 

The detective had a feeling akin to humiliation in profit- 
ing by the kindness of Mr. Fogg. 

‘‘It’s certain,” thought he, “though rascal as he is, he 
is a polite one !” 

The sails and the English flag were hoisted at ten minutes 
past three. Mr. Fogg and Aouda, who were seated on deck, 
cast a last glance at the quay, in the hope of espying Passe- 
partout. Fix was not without his fears lest chance should 
direct the steps of the unfortunate servant, whom he had 
so badly treated, in this direction ; in which case an explana- 
tion the reverse of satisfactory to the detective must have 
ensued. But the Frenchman did not appear, and, without 
doubt, was still lying under the stupefying influence of the 
opium. 

John Bunsby, master, at length gave the order to start, 
and the Tankadere, taking the wind under her brigantine, 
foresail, and standing- jib, bounded briskly forward over 
the waves. 


CHAPTER XXI 

IN WHICH THE MASTER OF THE “tANKADERe” RUNS GREAT 
RISK OF LOSING A REWARD OF TWO HUNDRED POUNDS 

T HIS voyage of eight hundred miles was a perilous venture 
on a craft of twenty tons, and at that season of the year. 
The Chinese seas are usually boisterous, subject to terrible 
gales of wind, and especially during the equinoxes ; and it 
was now early November. 

It would clearly have been to the master’s advantage to 
carry his passengers to Yokohama, since he was paid a cer- 
tain sum per day ; but he would have been rash to attempt 
such a voyage, and it was imprudent even to attempt to 
reach Shanghai. But John Bunsby believed in the Tanka- 
dere^ which rode on the waves like a seagull; and perhaps 
he was not wrong. 


394j around the world in eighty days 

Late in the day they passed through the capricious 
channels of Hong Kong, and the Tankadere, impelled by 
favourable winds, conducted herself admirably. 

“I do not need, pilot,” said Phileas Fogg, when they got 
into the open sea, ‘‘to advise you to use all possible speed.” 

“Trust me, ‘your honour. We are carrying all the sail 
the wind will let us. The poles would add nothing, and are 
only used when we are going into port.” 

“It’s your trade, not mine, pilot, and I confide in you.” 

Phileas Fogg, with body erect and legs wfide apart, 
standing like a sailor, gazed without staggering at the 
swelling waters. The young woman, who was seated aft, 
was profoundly affected as she looked out upon the ocean, 
darkening now with the twilight, on which she had ventured 
in so frail a vessel. Above her head rustled the white sails, 
which seemed like great white wings. The boat, carried for- 
ward by the wind, seemed to be flying in the air. 

Night came. The moon was entering her first quarter, 
and her insufficient light would soon die out in the mist on 
the horizon. Clouds were rising from the east, and already 
overcast a part of the heavens. 

The pilot had hung out his lights, which was very 
necessary in these seas crowded with vessels bound land- 
ward; for collisions are not uncommon occurrences, and, at 
the speed she was going, the least shock would shatter the 
gallant little craft. 

Fix, seated in the bow, gave himself up to meditation. 
He kept apart from his fellow-travellers, knowing Mr. 
Fogg’s taciturn tastes ; besides, he did not quite like to talk 
to the man whose favours he had accepted. He was thinking, 
too, of the future. It seemed certain that Fogg would not 
stop at Yokohama, but would at once take the boat for San 
Francisco; and the vast extent of America would ensure 
him impunity and safety. Fogg’s plan appeared to him the 
simplest in the world. Instead of sailing directly from Eng- 
land to the United States, like a common villain, he had 
traversed three quarters of the globe, so as to gain the 
American continent more surely; and there, after throwing 
the police off his track, he would quietly enjoy himself with 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 395 

the fortune stolen from the bank. But, once in the United 
States, what should he. Fix, do.^ Should he abandon this 
man? No, a hundred times no! Until he had secured his ex- 
tradition, he would not lose sight of him for an hour. It was 
his duty, and he would fulfil it to the end. At all events, 
there was one thing to be thankful for; Passepartout was 
not with his master; and it was above all important, after 
the confidences Fix had imparted to him, that the servant 
should never have speech with his master. 

Phileas Fogg was also thinking of Passepartout, who had 
so strangely disappeared. Looking at the matter from every 
point of view, it did not seem to him impossible that, by 
some mistake, the man might have embarked on the Carnatic 
at the last moment ; and this was also Aouda’s opinion, who 
regretted very much the loss of the worthy fellow to whom 
she owed so much. They might then find him at Yokohama; 
for, if the Carnatic was carrying him thither, it would be 
easy to ascertain if he had been on board. 

A brisk breeze arose about ten o’clock; but, though it 
might have been prudent to take in a reef, the pilot, after 
carefully examining the heavens, let the craft remain rigged 
as before. The Tankadere bore sail admirably, as she drew 
a great deal of water, and everything was prepared for high 
speed in case of a gale. 

Mr. Fogg and Aouda descended into the cabin at mid- 
night, having been already preceded by Fix, who had lain 
down on one of the cots. The pilot and crew remained on 
deck all night. 

At sunrise the next day, which was 8th November, the 
boat had made more than one hundred mileS. The log indi- 
cated a mean speed of between eight and nine miles. The 
Tankadere still carried all sail, and was accomplishing her 
greatest capacity of speed. If the wind held as it was, the 
chances would be in her favour. During the day she kept 
along the coast, where the currents were favourable; the 
coast, irregular in profile, and visible sometimes across the 
clearings, was at most five miles distant. The sea was less 
boisterous, since the wind came off land — a fortunate cir- 


396 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

cumstance for the boat, which would suffer, owing to its 
small tonnage, by a heavy surge on the sea. 

The breeze subsided a little towards noon, and set in from 
the south-west. The pilot put up his poles, but took them 
down again witliin two hours, as the wind freshened up anew. 

Mr. Fogg and Aouda, happily unaffected by the rough- 
ness of the sea, ate with a good appetite. Fix being invited 
to share their repast, which he accepted with secret chagrin. 
To travel at this man’s expense and live upon his provisions 
was not palatable to him. Still, he was obliged to eat, and 
so he ate. 

When the meal was over, he took Mr. Fogg apart, and 
said, “sir” — this “sir” scorched his lips, and he had to con- 
trol himself to avoid collaring this “gentleman” — “sir, you 
have been very kind to give me a passage on this boat. But, 
though my means will not admit of my expending them as 
freely as you, I must ask to pay my share ” 

“Let us not speak of that, sir,” replied Mr. Fogg. 

“But, if I insist ” 

“No, sir,” repeated Mr. Fogg, in a tone which did not 
admit of a reply. “This enters into my general expenses.” 

Fix, as he bowed, had a stifled feeling, and, going for- 
ward, where he ensconced himself, did not open his mouth 
for the rest of th6 day. 

Meanwhile they were progressing famously, and John 
Bunsby was in high hope. He several times assured Mr. 
Fogg that they would reach Shanghai in time; to which 
that gentleman responded that he counted upon it. The 
crew set to work in good earnest, inspired by the reward 
to be gained. There was not a sheet which was not tightened, 
not a sail which was not vigorously hoisted ; not a lurch could 
be charged to the man at the helm. They worked as desper- 
ately as if they were contesting in a Royal yacht regatta. 

By evening, the log showed that two hundred and twenty 
miles had been accomplished from Hong Kong, and Mr. 
Fogg might hope that he would be able to reach Yokohama 
without recording any delay in his journal; in which case, 
the many misadventures which had overtaken him since he 
left London would not seriously affect his journey. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 397 

The Tankadere entered the Straits of Fo-Kien, w^hich 
separate the island of Formosa from the Chinese coast, in the 
small hours of the night, and crossed the Tropic of Cancer. 
The sea was very rough in the straits, full of eddies formed 
by the counter-currents, and the chopping waves broke her 
course, wMst it became very difficult to stand on deck. 

At daybreak the wind began to blow hard again, and the 
heavens seemed to predict a gale. The barometer announced 
a speedy change, the mercury rising and falling capri- 
ciously; the sea also, in the south-east, raised long surges 
which indicated a tempest. The sun had set the evening be- 
fore in a red mist, in the midst of the phosphorescent 
scintillations of the ocean. 

John Bunsby long examined the threatening aspect of 
the heavens, muttering indistinctly between his teeth. At 
last he said in a low voice to Mr. Fogg, “Shall I speak out 
to your honour 

“Of course.” 

“Well, we are going to have a squall.” 

“Is the wind north or south .^” asked Mr. Fogg quietly. 

“South. Look! a typhoon is coming up.” 

“Glad it’s a typhoon from the south, for it will carry us 
forward.” 

“Oh, if you take it that way,” said John Bunsby, “I’ve 
nothing more to say.” John Bunsby ’s suspicions were con- 
firmed. At a less advanced season of the year the typhoon, 
according to a famous meteorologist, would have passed 
away like a luminous cascade of electric flame; but in the 
winter equinox it was to be feared that it would burst upon 
them with great violence. 

The pilot took his precautions in advance. He reefed all 
sail, the pole-masts were dispensed with; all hands went 
forw^ard to the bows. A single triangular sail, of strong 
canvas, was hoisted as a storm- jib, so as to hold the wind 
from behind. Then they waited. 

John Bunsby had requested his passengers to go below; 
but this imprisonment in so narrow a space, with little air, 
and the boat bouncing in the gale, was far from pleasant. 


398 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

Neither Mr. Fogg, Fix, nor Aouda consented to leave the 
deck. 

The storm of rain and wind descended upon them towards 
eight o’clock. With but its bit of sail, the Tankadere was 
lifted like a feather by a wind, an idea of whose violence 
can scarcely be given. To compare her speed to four times 
that of a locomotive going on full steam would be below 
the truth. 

The boat scudded thus northward during the whole day, 
borne on by monstrous waves, preserving always, fortu- 
nately, a speed equal to theirs. Twenty times she seemed 
almost to be submerged by these mountains of water which 
rose behind her; but the adroit management of the pilot 
saved her. The passengers were often bathed in spray, but 
they submitted to it philosophically. Fix cursed it, no doubt; 
but Aouda, with her eyes fastened upon her protector, 
whose coolness amazed her, showed herself worthy of him, 
and bravely weathered the storm. As for Phileas Fogg, it 
seemed just as if the typhoon were a part of his programme. 

Up to this time the Tankadere had always held her course 
to the north; but towards evening the wind, veering three 
quarters, bore down from the north-west. The boat, now 
lying in the trough of the waves, shook and rolled terribly ; 
the sea struck her with fearful violence. At night the tempest 
increased in violence. John Bunsby saw the approach of 
darkness and the rising of the storm with dark misgivings. 
He thought awhile, and then asked his crew if it was not 
time to slacken speed. After a consultation he approached 
Mr. Fogg, and said, ‘T think, your honour, that we should 
do well to make for one of the ports on the coast.” 

“I think so too.” 

“Ah!” said the pilot. “But which one.^” 

“I know of but one,” returned Mr. Fogg tranquilly. 

“And that is ” 

“Shanghai.” 

The pilot, at first, did not seem to comprehend; he could 
scarcely realise so much determination and tenacity. Then 
he cried, “Well — yes! Your honour is right. To Shanghai!” 

So the Tankadere kept steadily on her northward track. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 399 

The night was really terrible; it would be a miracle if 
the craft did not founder. Twice it would have been all over 
with her if the crew had not been constantly on the watch. 
Aouda was exhausted, but did not utter a complaint. More 
than once Mr. Fogg rushed to protect her from the violence 
of the waves. 

Day reappeared. The tempest still raged with undh 
minished fury ; but the wind now returned to the south-east. 
It was a favourable change, and the Tankadere again 
bounded forward on this mountainous sea, though the 
waves crossed each other, and imparted shocks and counter- 
shocks which would have crushed a craft less solidly built. 
From time to time the coast was visible through the broken 
mist, but no vessel was in sight. The Tankadere was alone 
upon the sea. 

There were some signs of a calm at noon, and these be- 
came more distinct as the sun descended toward the horizon. 
The tempest had been as brief as terrific. The passengers, 
thoroughly exhausted, could now eat a little, and take some 
repose. 

The night was comparatively quiet. Some of the sails 
were again hoisted, and the speed of the boat was very good. 
The next morning at dawn they espied the coast, and John 
Bunsby was able to assert that they were not one hundred 
miles from Shanghai. A hundred miles, and only one day to 
traverse them! That very evening Mr. Fogg was due at 
Shanghai, if he did not wish to miss the steamer to Yoko- 
hama. Had there been no storm, during which several hours 
were lost, they would be at this moment within thirty miles 
of their destination. 

The wind grew dfcidedly calmer, and happily the sea 
fell with it. All sails were now hoisted, and at noon the 
Tankadere was within forty-five miles of Shanghai. There 
remained yet six hours in which to accomplish that dis- 
tance. All on board feared that it could not be done, and 
every one — Phileas Fogg, no doubt, excepted — felt his heart 
beat with impatience. The boat must keep up an average of 
nine miles an hour, and the wind was becoming calmer every 
moment 1 It was a capricious breeze, coming from the coast, 


400 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

and after it passed the sea became smooth. Still, the Tanka- 
dere was so light, and her fine sails caught the fickle zephyrs 
so well, that, with the aid of the current, John Bunsby 
found himself at six o’clock not more than ten miles from 
the mouth of Shanghai River. Shanghai itself is situated at 
least twelve miles up the stream. At seven they were still 
three miles from Shanghai. The pilot swore an angry oath; 
the reward of two hundred pounds was evidently on the point 
of escaping him. He looked at Mr. Fogg. Mr. Fogg was 
perfectly tranquil; and yet his whole fortune was at this 
moment at stake. 

At this moment, also, a long black funnel, crowned with 
wreaths of smoke, appeared on the edge of the waters. It 
was the American steamer, leaving for Yokohama at the 
appointed time. 

‘‘Confound her!” cried John Bunsby, pushing back the 
rudder with a desperate jerk. 

“Signal her 1” said Phileas Fogg quietly. 

A small brass cannon stood on the forward deck of the 
Tankadere, for making signals in the fogs. It was loaded to 
the muzzle; but just as the pilot was about to apply a red- 
hot coal to the touchhole, Mr. Fogg said, “Hoist your 
flag I” 

The flag was run up at half-mast, and, this being the 
signal of distress, it was hoped that the American steamer, 
perceiving it, would change her course a little, so as to 
succour the pilot-boat. 

“Fire!” said Mr. Fogg. And the booming of the little 
cannon resounded in the air. 


CHAPTER XXII 

IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT FINDS OUT THAT, EVEN AT THE 
ANTIPODES, IT IS CONVENIENT TO HAVE SOME MONEY 

IN one’s pocket 

TT HE Carnatic, setting sail from Hong Kong at half-past 
six on the 7th of November, directed her course at full 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 401 

steam towards Japan. She carried a large cargo and a well- 
filled cabin of passengers. Two state-rooms in the rear were, 
however, unoccupied — those which had been engaged by 
Phileas Fogg. 

The next day a passenger with a half-stupefied eye, 
staggering gait, and disordered hair, was seen to emerge 
from the second cabin, and to totter to a seat on deck. 

It was Passepartout ; and what had happened to him was 
as follows : Shortly after Fix left the opium den, two waiters 
had lifted the unconscious Passepartout, and had carried 
him to the bed reserved for the smokers. Three hours later, 
pursued even in his dreams by a fixed idea, the poor fellow 
awoke, and struggled against the stupefying influence of 
the narcotic. The thought of a duty unfulfilled shook off his 
torpor, and he hurried from the abode of drunkenness. 
Staggering and holding himself up by keeping against the 
walls, falling down and creeping up again, and irresistibly 
impelled by a kind of instinct, he kept crying out, “The 
Carnatic ! the Carnatic !” 

The steamer lay puffing alongside the quay, on the point 
of starting. Passepartout had but few steps to go; and, 
rushing upon the plank, he crossed it, and fell unconscious 
on the deck, just as the Carnatic was moving off. Several 
sailors, who were evidently accustomed to this sort of scene, 
carried the poor Frenchman down into the second cabin, 
and Passepartout did not wake until they were one hundred 
and fifty miles away from China. Thus he found himself the 
next morning on the deck of the Carnatic^ and eagerly in- 
haling the exhilarating sea-breeze. The pure air sobered 
him. He began to collect his sense, which he found a difficult 
task; but at last he recalled the events of the evening be- 
fore, Fix’s revelation, and the opium-house. 

“It is evident,” said he to himself, “that I have been 
abominably drunk! What will Mr. Fogg say.? At least I 
have not missed the steamer, which is the most important 
thing.” 

Then, as Fix occurred to him : “As for that rascal, I hope 
we are well rid of him, and that he has not dared, as he pro- 
posed, to follow us on board the Carnatic. A detective on the 


402 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

track of Mr. Fogg, accused of robbing the Bank of Eng- 
land! Pshaw! Mr. Fogg is no more a robber than I am a 
murderer.” 

Should he divulge Fix’s real errand to his master.^ 
Would it do to tell the part the detective was playing. 
Would it not be better to wait until Mr. Fogg reached 
London again, and then impart to him that an agent of the 
metropolitan police had been following him round the 
world, and have a good laugh over it? No doubt; at least, 
it was worth considering. The first thing to do was to find 
Mr. Fogg, and apologise for his singular behaviour. 

Passepartout got up and proceeded, as well as he could 
with the rolling of the steamer, to the after-deck. He saw 
no one who resembled either his master or Aouda. “Good!” 
muttered he; “Aouda has not got up yet, and Mr. Fogg 
has probably found some partners at whist.” 

He descended to the saloon. Mr. Fogg was not there. 
Passepartout had only, however, to ask the purser the num- 
ber of his master’s state-room. The purser replied that he 
did not know any passenger by the name of Fogg. 

“I beg your pardon,” said Passepartout persistently. “He 
is a tall gentleman, quiet, and not very talkative, and has 
with him a young lady ” 

“There is no young lady on board,” interrupted the 
purser. “Here is a list of the passengers; you may see for 
yourself.” 

Passepartout scanned the list, but his master’s name was 
not upon it. All at once an idea struck him. 

“Ah! am I on the Carnatic?^^ 

“Yes.” 

“On the way to Yokohama?” 

“Certainly.” 

Passepartout had for an instant feared that he was on 
the wrong boat ; but, though he was really on the Carnatic^ 
his master was not there. 

He fell thunderstruck on a seat. He saw it all now. He 
remembered that the time of sailing had been changed, 
that he should have informed his master of that fact, and 
that he had not done so. It was his fault, then, that Mr. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 403 

Fogg and Aouda had missed the steamer. Yes, but it was 
still more the fault of the traitor who, in order to separate 
him from his master, and detain the latter at Hong Kong, 
had inveigled him into getting drunk! He now saw the 
detective’s trick; and at this moment Mr. Fogg was cer- 
tainly ruined, his bet was lost, and he himself perhaps 
arrested and imprisoned ! At this thought Passepartout tore 
his hair. Ah, if Fix ever came within his reach, what a 
settling of accounts there would be I 

After his first depression. Passepartout became calmer, 
and began to study his situation. It was certainly not an* 
enviable one. He found himself on the way to Japan, and 
what should he do when he got there His pocket was 
empty; he had not a solitary shilling — not so much as a 
penny. His passage had fortunately been paid for in ad- 
vance ; and he had five or six days in which to decide upon 
his future course. He fell to at meals with an appetite, and 
ate for Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and himself. He helped himself as 
generously as if Japan were a desert, where nothing to eat 
was to be looked for. 

At dawn on the 13th the Carnatic entered the port of 
Yokohama. This is an important port of call in the Pacific, 
where all the mail-steamers, and those carrying travellers 
between North America, China, Japan, and the Oriental 
islands put in. It is situated in the bay of Yeddo, and at but 
a short distance from that second capital of the Japanese 
Empire, and the residence of the Tycoon, the civil Emperor, 
before the Mikado, the spiritual Emperor, absorbed his 
office in his own. The Carnatic anchored at the quay near 
the custom-house, in the midst of a crowd of ships bearing 
the flags of all nations. 

Passepartout went timidly ashore on this so curious ter- 
ritory of the Sons of the Sun. He had nothing better to do 
than, taking chance for his guide, to wander aimlessly 
through the streets of Yokohama. He found himself at first 
in a thoroughly European quarter, the houses having low 
fronts, and being adorned with verandas, beneath which he 
caught glimpses of neat peristyles. This quarter occupied, 
with its streets, squares, docks, and warehouses, all the space 


404 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

between the “promontory of the Treaty” and the river. 
Here, as at Hong Kong and Calcutta, were mixed crowds 
of all races — Americans and English, Chinamen and Dutch- 
men, mostly merchants ready to buy or sell anything. The 
Frenchman felt himself as much alone among them as if he 
had dropped down in the midst of Hottentots. 

He had, at least, one resource — to call on the French and 
English consuls at Yokohama for assistance. But he shrank 
from telling the story of his adventures, intimately con- 
nected as it was with that of his master; and, before doing 
so, he determined to exhaust all other means of aid. As 
chance did not favour him in the European quarter, he 
penetrated that inhabited by the native Japanese, deter- 
mined, if necessary, to push on to Yeddo. 

The Japanese quarter of Yokohama is called Benten, 
after the goddess of the sea, who is worshipped on the islands 
round about. There Passepartout beheld beautiful fir and 
cedar groves, sacred gates of a singular architecture, bridges 
half hid in the midst of bamboos and reeds, temples shaded 
by immense cedar-trees, holy retreats where were sheltered 
Buddhist priests and sectaries of Confucius, and inter- 
minable streets, where a perfect harvest of rose-tinted and 
red-cheeked children, who looked as if they had been cut 
out of Japanese screens, and who were playing in the midst 
of short-legged poodles and yellowish cats, might have been 
gathered. 

The streets were crowded with people. Priests were pass- 
ing in processions, beating their dreary tambourines ; police 
and custom-house officers with pointed hats encrusted with 
lac, and carrying two sabres hung to their waists ; soldiers, 
clad in blue cotton with white stripes, and bearing guns; 
the Mikado’s guards, enveloped in silken doubles, hauberks 
and coats of mail ; and numbers of military folk of all ranks 
— for the military profession is as much respected in Japan 
as it is despised in China — went hither and thither in groups 
and pairs. Passepartout saw, too, begging friars, long- 
robed pilgrims, and simple civilians, with their warped and 
jet-black hair, big heads, long busts, slender legs, short 
stature, and complexions varying from copper-colour to a 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 405 

dead white, but never yellow, like the Chinese, from whom 
the Japanese widely differ. He did not fail to observe the 
curious equipages — carriages and palanquins, barrows sup- 
plied with sails, and litters made of bamboo; nor the 
women — whom he thought not especially handsome — who 
took little steps with their little feet, whereon they wore 
canvas shoes, straw sandals, and clogs of worked wood, and 
who displayed tight-looking eyes, flat chests, teeth fash- 
ionably blackened, and gowns crossed with silken scarfs, tied 
in an enormous knot behind — an ornament which the mod- 
ern Parisian ladies seem to have borrowed from the dames 
of Japan. 

Passepartout wandered for several hours in the midst of 
this motley crowd, looking in at the windows of the rich 
and curious shops, the jewellery establishments glittering 
with quaint Japanese ornaments, the restaurants decked 
with streamers and banners, the tea-houses, where the odor- 
ous beverage was being drunk with saki, a liquor concocted 
from the fermentation of rice, and the comfortable smok- 
ing-houses, where they were puffing, not opium, which is 
almost unknown in Japan, but a very fine, stringy tobacco. 
He went on till he found himself in the fields, in the midst 
of vast rice plantations. There he saw dazzling camellias 
expanding themselves, with flowers which were giving forth 
their last colours and perfumes, not on bushes, but on trees, 
and within bamboo enclosures, cherry, plum, and apple 
trees, which the Japanese cultivate rather for their blossoms 
than their fruit, and which queerly-fashioned, grinning 
scarecrows protected from the sparrows, pigeons, ravens, 
and other voracious birds. On the branches of the cedars 
were perched large eagles ; amid the foliage of the weeping 
willows were herons, solemnly standing on one leg; and on 
every hand were crows, ducks, hawks, wild birds, and a 
multitude of cranes, which the Japanese consider sacred, 
and which to their minds symbolise long life and prosperity. 

As he was strolling along. Passepartout espied some 
violets among the shrubs. 

“Good !” said he ; “I’ll have some supper.” 

But, on smelling them, he found that they were odourless. 


406 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

“No chance there,” thought he. 

The worthy fellow had certainly taken good care to eat 
as hearty a breakfast as possible before leaving the Carnatic; 
but, as he had been walking about all day, the demands of 
hunger were becoming importunate. He observed that the 
butchers’ stalls contained neither mutton, goat, nor pork; 
and, knowing also that it is a sacrilege to kill cattle, which 
are preserved solely for farming, he made up his mind that 
meat was far from plentiful in Yokohama — nor was he mis- 
taken; and, in default of butcher’s meat, he could have 
wished for a quarter of wild boar or deer, a partridge, or 
some quails, some game or fish, which, with rice, the 
Japanese eat almost exclusively. But he found it necessary 
to keep up a stout heart, and to postpone the meal he craved 
till the following morning. Night came, and Passepartout 
re-entered the native quarter, where he wandered through 
the streets, lit by vari-coloured lanterns, looking on at the 
dancers, who were executing skilful steps and boundings, 
and the astrologers who stood in the open air with their 
telescopes. Then he came to the harbour, which was lit up 
by the resin torches of the fishermen, who were fishing from 
their boats. 

The streets at last became quiet, and the patrol, the 
officers of which, in their splendid costumes, and surrounded 
by their suites. Passepartout thought seemed like ambassa- 
dors, succeeded the bustling crowd. Each time a company 
passed. Passepartout chuckled, and said to himself : “Good ! 
another Japanese embassy departing for Europe!” 


CHAPTER XXIII 

IN WHICH passepartout’s NOSE BECOMES 
OUTRAGEOUSLY LONG 

The next morning poor, jaded, famished Passepartout 
said to himself that he must get something to eat at all 
hazards, and the sooner he did so the better. He might, 
indeed, sell his watch ; but he would have starved first. Now 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 4j07 

or never he must use the strong, if not melodious voice 
which nature had bestowed upon him. He knew several 
French and English songs, and resolved to try them upon 
the Japanese, who must be lovers of music, since they were 
for ever pounding on their cymbals, tam-tams, and tam- 
bourines, and could not but appreciate European talent. 

It was, perhaps, rather early in the morning to get up 
a concert, and the audience prematurely aroused from their 
slumbers, might not possibly pay their entertainer with 
coin bearing the Mikado’s features. Passepartout therefore 
decided to wait several hours ; and, as he was sauntering 
along, it occurred to him that he would seem rather too 
well dressed for a wandering artist. The idea struck him to 
change his garments for clothes more in harmony with his 
project; by which he might also get a little money to satisfy 
the immediate cravings of hunger. The resolution taken, it 
remained to carry it out. 

It was only after a long search that Passepartout dis- 
covered a native dealer in old clothes, to whom he applied 
for an exchange. The man liked the European costume, and 
ere long Passepartout issued from his shop accoutred in an 
old Japanese coat, and a sort of one-sided turban, faded 
with long use. A few small pieces of silver, moreover, jingled 
in his pocket. 

‘‘Good !” thought he. “I will imagine I am at the 
Carnival !” 

His first care, after being thus “Japanesed,” was to 
enter a tea-house of modest appearance, and, upon half a 
bird and a little rice, to breakfast like a man for whom 
dinner was as yet a problem to be solved. 

“Now,” thought he, when he had eaten heartily, “I 
mustn’t lose my head. I can’t sell this costume again for one 
still more Japanese. I must consider how to leave this coun- 
try of the Sun, of which I shall not retain the most delight- 
ful of memories, as quickly as possible.” 

It occurred to him to visit the steamers which were about 
to leave for America. He would offer himself as a cook or 
servant, in payment of his passage and meals. Once at San 
Francisco, he would find some means of going on. The diffi* 


408 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

culty was, how to traverse the four thousand seven hundred 
miles of the Pacific which lay between Japan and the New 
World. 

Passepartout was not the man to let an idea go begging, 
and directed his steps towards the docks. But, as he ap- 
proached them, his project, which at first had seemed so 
simple, began to grow more and more formidable to his 
mind. What need would they have of a cook or servant on 
an American steamer, and what confidence would they put 
in him, dressed as he was.? What references could he give? 

As he was reflecting in this wise, his eyes fell upon an 
immense placard which a sort of clown was carrying through 
the streets. This placard, which was in English, read as 
follows : 

ACROBATIC JAPANESE TROUPE, 

HONOURABLE WILLIAM BATULCAR, PROPRIETOR, 

LAST REPRESENTATIONS, 

PRIOR TO THEIR DEPARTURE TO THE UNITED STATES, 

OF THE 

LONG noses! long NOSES ! 

UNDER THE DIRECT PATRONAGE OF THE GOD TINGOU 1 
GREAT ATTRACTION ! 

‘‘The United States!” said Passepartout; “that’s just 
what I want!” 

He followed the clown, and soon found himself once more 
in the Japanese quarter. A quarter of an hour later he 
stopped before a large cabin, adorned with several clusters 
of streamers, the exterior walls of which were designed to 
represent, in violent colours and without perspective, a 
company of jugglers. 

This was the Honourable William Batulcar’s establish- 
ment. That gentleman was a sort of Barnum, the director 
of a troupe of mountebanks, jugglers, clowns, acrobats, 
equilibrists, and gymnasts, who, according to the placard, 
was giving his last performances before leaving the Empire 
of the Sun for the States of the Union. 

Passepartout entered and asked for Mr. Batulcar, who 
straightway appeared in person. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 4}09 

“What do you want?” said he to Passepartout, whom he 
at first took for a native. 

“Would you like a servant, sir?” asked Passepartout. 

“A servant !” cried Mr. Batulcar, caressing the thick 
grey beard which hung from his chin. “I already have two 
who are obedient and faithful, have never left me, and serve 
me for their nourishment — and here they are,” added he, 
holding out his two robust arms, furrowed with veins as 
large as the strings of a bass-viol. 

“So I can be of no use to you?” 

“None.” 

“The devil ! I should so like to cross the Pacific with you !” 

“Ah!” said the Honourable Mr. Batulcar. “You are 
no more a Japanese than I am a monkey! Why are you 
dressed up in that way?” 

“A man dresses as he can.” 

“That’s true. You are a Frenchman, aren’t you?” 

“Yes ; a Parisian of Paris.” 

“Then you ought to know how to make grimaces ?” 

“Why,” replied Passepartout, a little vexed that his 
nationality should cause this question, “we Frenchmen 
know how to make grimaces, it is true — but not any better 
than the Americans do.” 

“True. Well, if I can’t take you as a servant, I can as a 
clown. You see, my friend, in France they exhibit foreign 
clowns, and in foreign parts French clowns.” 

“Ah!” 

“You are pretty strong, eh?” 

“Especially after a good meal.” 

“And you can sing?” 

“Yes,” returned Passepartout, who had formerly been 
wont to sing in the streets. 

“But can you sing standing on your head, with a top 
spinning on your left foot, and a sabre balanced on your 
right?” 

“Humph! I think so,” replied Passepartout, recalling 
the exercises of his younger days. 

“Well, that’s enough,” said the Honourable William 
Batulcar. 


410 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

The engagement was concluded there and then. 

Passepartout had at last found something to do. He was 
engaged to act in the celebrated Japanese troupe. It was 
not a very dignified position, but within a week he would 
be on his way to San Francisco. 

The performance, so noisily announced by the Honour- 
able Mr. Batulcar, was to commence at three o’clock, and 
soon the deafening instruments of a Japanese orchestra re- 
sounded at the door. Passepartout, though he had not been 
able to study or rehearse a part, was designated to lend the 
aid of his sturdy shoulders in the great exhibition of the 
“human pyramid,” executed by the Long Noses of the god 
Tingou. This “great attraction” was to close the per- 
formance. 

Before three o’clock the large shed was invaded by the 
spectators, comprising Europeans and natives, Chinese and 
Japanese, men, women and children, who precipitated 
themselves upon the narrow benches and into the boxes 
opposite the stage. The musicians took up a position inside, 
and were vigorously performing on their gongs, tam-tams, 
flutes, bones, tambourines, and immense drums. 

The performance was much like all acrobatic displays; 
but it must be confessed that the Japanese are the first 
equilibrists in the world. 

One, with a fan and some bits of paper, performed the 
graceful trick of the butterflies and the flowers; another 
traced in the air, with the odorous smoke of his pipe, a 
series of blue words, which composed a compliment to the 
audience; while a third juggled with some lighted candles, 
which he extinguished successively as they passed his lips, 
and relit again without interrupting for an instant his jug- 
gling. Another reproduced the most singular combinations 
with a spinning-top ; in his hands the revolving tops seemed 
to be animated with a life of their own in their interminable 
whirling; they ran over pipe-stems, the edges of sabres, 
wires and even hairs stretched across the stage ; they turned 
around on the edges of large glasses, crossed bamboo ladders, 
dispersed into all the corners, and produced strange musical 
effects by the combination of their various pitches of tone. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 411 

The jugglers tossed them in the air, threw them like shuttle- 
cocks with wooden battledores, and yet they kept on spin- 
ning; they put them into their pockets, and took them out 
still whirling as before. 

It is useless to describe the astonishing performances of 
the acrobats and gymnasts. The turning on ladders, poles, 
balls, barrels, &c., was executed with wonderful precision. 

But the principal attraction was the exhibition of the 
Long Noses, a show to which Europe is as yet a stranger. 

The Long Noses form a peculiar company, under the 
direct patronage of the god Tingou. Attired after the 
fashion of the Middle Ages, they bore upon their shoulders 
a splendid pair of wings ; but what especially distinguished 
them was the long noses v/hich were fastened to their faces, 
and the uses which they made of them. These noses were 
made of bamboo, and were five, six, and even ten feet long, 
some straight, others curved, some ribboned, and some hav- 
ing imitaton warts upon them. It was upon these append- 
ages, fixed tightly on their real noses, that they performed 
their gymnastic exercises. A dozen of these sectaries of 
Tingou lay flat upon their backs, while others, dressed to 
represent lightning-rods, came and frolicked on their noses, 
jumping from one to another, and performing the most skil- 
ful leapings and somersaults. 

As a last scene, a “human pyramid” had been announced, 
in which fifty Long Noses were to represent the Car of 
Juggernaut. But, instead of forming a pyramid by mount- 
ing each other’s shoulders, the artists were to group them- 
selves on top of the noses. It happened that the performer 
who had hitherto formed the base of the Car had quitted 
the troupe, and as, to fill this part, only strength and adroit- 
ness were necessary. Passepartout had been chosen to take 
his place. 

The poor fellow really felt sad when — ^melancholy reminis- 
cence of his youth! — he donned his costume, adorned with 
vari-coloured wings, and fastened to his natural feature a 
false nose six feet long. But he cheered up when he thought 
that this nose was winning him something to eat. 

He went upon the stage, and took his place beside the 


41^ AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

rest who were to compose the base of the Car of J uggernaut. 
They all stretched themselves on the floor, their noses point- 
ing to the ceiling. A second group of artists disposed them- 
selves on these long appendages, then a third above these, 
then a fourth, until a human monument reaching to the very 
cornices of the theatre soon arose on top of the noses. This 
elicited loud applause, in the midst of which the orchestra 
was just striking up a deafening air, when the pyramid 
tottered, the balance was lost, one of the lower noses vanished 
from the pyramid, and the human monument was shattered 
like a castle built of cards! 

It was Passepartout’s fault. Abandoning his position, 
clearing the footlights without the aid of his wings, and, 
clambering up to the right-hand gallery, he fell at the feet 
of one of the spectators, crying, “Ah, my master! my 
master !” 

“You here.^” 

“Myself.” 

“Very well ; then let us go to the steamer, young man !” 

Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Passepartout passed through the 
lobby of the theatre to the outside, where they encountered 
the Honourable Mr. Batulcar, furious with rage. He de- 
manded damages for the “breakage” of the pyramid; and 
Phileas Fogg appeased him by giving him a handful of 
banknotes. 

At half-past six, the very hour of departure, Mr. Fogg 
and Aouda, followed by Passepartout, who in his hurry 
had retained his wings, and nose six feet long, stepped upon 
the American steamer. 


CHAPTER XXIV 

DURING WHICH MR. FOGG AND PARTY CROSS THE 
PACIFIC OCEAN 

What happened when the pilot-boat came in sight of 
Shanghai will be easily guessed. The signals made by the 
Tankadere had been seen by the captain of the Yokohama 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 413 

steamer, who, espying the flag at half-mast, had directed 
his course towards the little craft. Phileas Fogg, after pay- 
ing the stipulated price of his passage to John Busby, and 
rewarding that worthy with the additional sum of five hun- 
dred and fifty pounds, ascended the steamer with Aouda 
and Fix; and they started at once for Nagasaki and 
Yokohama. 

They reached their destination on the morning of the 
14th of November. Phileas Fogg lost no time in going on 
board the Carnatic, where he learned, to Aouda’s great de- 
light — and perhaps to his own, though he betrayed no 
emotion — that Passepartout, a Frenchman, had really 
arrived on her the day before. 

The San Francisco steamer was announced to leave that 
very evening, and it became necessary to find Passepartout, 
if possible, without delay. Mr. Fogg applied in vain to the 
French and English consuls, and, after wandering through 
the streets a long time, began to despair of finding his 
missing servant. Chance, or perhaps a kind of presenti- 
ment, at last led him into the Honourable Mr. Batulcar’s 
theatre. He certainly would not have recognised Passepar- 
tout in the eccentric mountebank’s costume; but the latter, 
lying on his back, perceived his master in the gallery. He 
could not help starting, which so changed the position of his 
nose as to bring the ‘‘pyramid” pell-mell upon the stage. 

All this Passepartout learned from Aouda, who recounted 
to him what had taken place on the voyage from Hong 
Kong to Shanghai on the Tankadere, in company with one 
Mr. Fix. 

Passepartout did not change countenance on hearing this 
name. He thought that the time had not yet arrived to 
divulge to his master what had taken place between the 
detective and himself ; and, in the account he gave of his 
absence, he simply excused himself for having been over- 
taken by drunkenness, in smoking opium at a tavern in 
Hong Kong. 

Mr. Fogg heard this narrative coldly, without a word; 
and then furnished his man with funds necessary to obtain 
clothing more in harmony with his position. Within an 


414 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

hour the Frenchman had cut off his nose and parted with 
his wings, and retained nothing about him which recalled 
the sectary of the god Tingou. 

The steamer which was about to depart from Yokohama 
to San Francisco belonged to the Pacific Mail Steamship 
Company, and was named the General Grant. She was a 
large paddle-wheel steamer of two thousand five hundred 
tons, well equipped and very fast. The massive walking- 
beam rose and fell above the deck; at one end a piston-rod 
worked up and down ; and at the other was a connecting- 
rod which, in changing the rectilinear motion to a circular 
one, was directly connected with the shaft of the paddles. 
The General Grant was rigged with three masts, giving a 
large capacity for sails, and thus materially aiding the steam 
power. By making twelve miles an hour, she would cross the 
ocean in twenty-one days. Phileas Fogg was therefore justi- 
fied in hoping that he would reach San Francisco by the 2nd 
of December, New York by the 11th, and London on the 
20th — thus gaining several hours on the fatal date of the 
21st of December. 

There was a full complement of passengers on board, 
among them English, many Americans, a large number of 
coolies on their way to California, and several East Indian 
officers, who were spending their vacation in making the 
tour of the world. Nothing of moment happened on the 
voyage; the steamer, sustained on its large paddles, rolled 
but little, and the Pacific almost justified its name. Mr. 
Fogg was as calm and taciturn as ever. His young com- 
panion felt herself more and more attached to him by other 
ties than gratitude ; his silent but generous nature impressed 
her more than she thought ; and it was almost unconsciously 
that she yielded to emotions which did not seem to have 
the least effect upon her protector. Aouda took the keenest 
interest in liis plans, and became impatient at any incident 
which seemed likely to retard his journey. 

She often chatted with Passepartout, who did not fail to 
perceive the state of the lady’s heart; and, being the most 
faithful of domestics, he never exhausted his eulogies of 
Phileas Fogg’s honesty, generosity, and devotion. He took 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 415 

pains to calm Aouda’s doubts of a successful termination 
of the journey, telling her that the most difficult part of it 
had passed, that now they were beyond the fantastic coun- 
tries of Japan and China, and were fairly on their way to 
civilised places again. A railway train from San Francisco 
to New York, and a transatlantic steamer from New York 
to Liverpool, would doubtless bring them to the end of this 
impossible journey round the world within the period agreed 
upon. 

On the ninth day after leaving Yokohama, Phileas Fogg 
had traversed exactly one half of the terrestrial globe. The 
General Grant passed, on the 23rd of November, the one 
hundred and eightieth meridian, and was at the very anti- 
podes of London. Mr. Fogg had, it is true, exhausted fifty- 
two of the eighty days in which he was to complete the tour, 
and there were only twenty-eight left. But, though he was 
only half-way by the difference of meridians, he had really 
gone over two-thirds of the whole journey; for he had been 
obliged to make long circuits from London to Aden, from 
Aden to Bombay, from Calcutta to Singapore, and from 
Singapore to Yokohama. Could he have followed without 
deviation the fiftieth parallel, which is that of London, the 
whole distance would only have been about twelve thousand 
miles ; whereas he would be forced, by the irregular methods 
of locomotion, to traverse twenty-six thousand, of which he 
had, on the 23rd of November, accomplished seventeen thou- 
sand five hundred. And now the course was a straight one, 
and Fix was no longer there to put obstacles in their way ! 

It happened also, on the 23rd of November, that Passe- 
partout made a joyful discovery. It will be remembered 
that the obstinate fellow had insisted on keeping his famous 
family watch at London time, and on regarding that of the 
countries he had passed through as quite false and un- 
reliable. Now, on this day, though he had not changed the 
hands, he found that his watch exactly agreed with the 
ship’s chronometers. His triumph was hilarious. He would 
have liked to know what Fix would say if he were aboard! 

‘‘The rogue told me a lot of stories,” repeated Passepar- 
tout, “about the meridians, the sun, and the moon! Moon, 


416 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

indeed! moonshine more likely! If one listened to that sort 
of people, a pretty sort of time one would keep ! I was sure 
that the sun would some day regulate itself by my watch !” 

Passepartout was ignorant that, if the face of his watch 
had been divided into twenty-four hours, like the Italian 
clocks, he would have no reason for exultation; for the 
hands of his watch would then, instead of as now indicating 
nine o’clock in the morning, indicate nine o’clock in the 
evening, that is, the twenty-first hour after midnight — 
precisely the difference between London time and that of 
the one hundred and eightieth meridian. But if Fix had 
been able to explain this purely physical effect. Passepar- 
tout would not have admitted, even if he had comprehended 
it. Moreover, if the detective had been on board at that 
moment. Passepartout would have joined issue with him on 
a quite different subject, and in an entirely different manner. 

Where was Fix at that moment.^ 

He was actually on board the General Grant. 

On reaching Yokohama, the detective, leaving Mr. Fogg, 
whom he expected to meet again during the day, had re- 
paired at once to the English consulate, where he at last 
found the warrant of arrest. It had followed him from Bom- 
bay, and had come by the Carnatic, on which steamer he 
himself was supposed to be. Fix’s disappointment may be 
imagined when he reflected that the warrant was now useless. 
Mr. Fogg had left English ground, and it was now neces- 
sary to procure his extradition! 

‘‘Well,” thought Fix, after a moment of anger, “my 
warrant is not good here, but it will be in England. The 
rogue evidently intends to return to his own country, think- 
ing he has thrown the police off his track. Good ! I will fol- 
low him across the Atlantic. As for the money, heaven grant 
there may be some left ! But the fellow has already spent in 
travelling, rewards, trials, bail, elephants, and all sorts of 
charges, more than five thousand pounds. Yet, after all, the 
Bank is rich!” 

His course decided on, he went on board the General 
Grant, and was there when Mr. Fogg and Aouda arrived. 
To his utter amazement, he recognised Passepartout, despite 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 417 

his theatrical disguise. He quickly concealed himself in his 
cabin, to avoid an awkward explanation, and hoped — ^thanks 
to the number of passengers — to remain unperceived by 
Mr. Fogg’s servant. 

On that very day, however, he met Passepartout face to 
face on the forward deck. The latter, without a word, made 
a rush for him, grasped him by the throat, and, much to 
the amusement of a group of Americans, who immediately 
began to bet on him, administered to the detective a perfect 
volley of blows, which proved the great superiority of French 
over English pugilistic skill. 

When Passepartout had finished, he found himself re- 
lieved and comforted. Fix got up in a somewhat rumpled 
condition, and, looking at his adversary, coldly said, “Have 
you done.?” 

“For this time — yes.” 

“Then let me have a word with you.” 

‘‘But I ” 

“In your master’s interests.” 

Passepartout seemed to be vanquished by Fix’s coolness, 
for he quietly followed him, and they sat down aside from 
the rest of the passengers. 

“You have given me a thrashing,” said Fix. “Good, I 
expected it. Now, listen to me. Up to this time I have been 
Mr. Fogg’s adversary. I am now in his game.” 

“Aha!” cried Passepartout; “you are convinced he is an 
honest man.?” 

“No,” replied Fix coldly, “I think him a rascal. Sh! don’t 
budge, and let me speak. As long as Mr. Fogg was on 
English ground, it was for my interest to detain him there 
until my warrant of arrest arrived. I did everything I 
could to keep him back. I sent the Bombay priests after him, 
I got you intoxicated at Hong Kong, I separated you from 
him, and I made him miss the Yokohama steamer.” 

Passepartout listened, with closed fists. 

“Now,” resumed Fix, “Mr. Fogg seems to be going back 
to England. Well, I will follow him there. But hereafter 
I will do as much to keep obstacles out of his way as I 
have done up to this time to put them in his path. I’ve 


418 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

changed my game, you see, and simply because it was for 
my interest to change it. Your interest is the same as mine; 
for it is only in England that you will ascertain whether 
you are in the service of a criminal or an honest man.” 

Passepartout listened very attentively to Fix, and was 
convinced that he spoke with entire good faith. 

“Are we friends.?” asked the detective. 

“Friends.? — no,” replied Passepartout; “but allies, per- 
haps. At the least sign of treason, however. I’ll twist your 
neck for you.” 

“Agreed,” said the detective quietly. 

Eleven days later, on the 3rd of December, the General 
Grant entered the bay of the Golden Gate, and reached 
San Francisco. 

Mr. Fogg had neither gained nor lost a single day. 


CHAPTER XXV 

IN WHICH A SLIGHT GLIMPSE IS HAD OF 
SAN FRANCISCO 

I T WAS seven in the morning when Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and 
Passepartout set foot upon the American continent, if this 
name can be given to the floating quay upon which they 
disembarked. These quays, rising and falling with the tide, 
thus facilitate the loading and unloading of vessels. Along- 
side them were clippers of all sizes, steamers of all nation- 
alities, and the steamboats, with several decks rising one 
above the other, which ply on the Sacramento and its tribu- 
taries. There were also heaped up the products of a com- 
merce which extends to Mexico, Chili, Peru, Brazil, Europe, 
Asia, and all the Pacific islands. 

Passepartout, in his joy on reaching at last the American 
continent, thought he would manifest it by executing a 
perilous vault in fine style ; but, tumbling upon some worm- 
eaten planks, he fell through them. Put out of countenance 
by the manner in which he thus “set foot” upon the New 
World, he uttered a loud cry, which so frightened the in- 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 419 

numerable cormorants and pelicans that are always perched 
upon these movable quays, that they flew noisily away. 

Mr. Fogg, on reaching shore, proceeded to find out at 
what hour the first train left for New York, and learned 
that this was at six o’clock p.m. ; he had, therefore, an 
entire day to spend in the Californian capital. Taking a 
carriage at a charge of three dollars, he and Aouda entered 
it, while Passepartout mounted the box beside the driver, 
and they set out for the International Hotel. 

From his exalted position Passepartout observed with 
much curiosity the wide streets, the low, evenly ranged 
houses, the Anglo-Saxon Gothic churches, the great docks, 
the palatial wooden and brick warehouses, the numerous con- 
veyances, omnibuses, horse-cars, and upon the side-walks, 
not only Americans and Europeans, but Chinese and 
Indians. Passepartout was surprised at all he saw. San Fran- 
cisco was no longer the legendary city of 1849 — a city of 
banditti, assassins, and incendiaries, who had flocked hither 
in crowds in pursuit of plunder; a paradise of outlaws, 
where they gambled with gold-dust, a revolver in one hand 
and a bowie-knife in the other: it was now a great com- 
mercial emporium. 

The lofty tower of its City Hall overlooked the whole 
panorama of the streets and avenues, which cut each other 
at right-angles, and in the midst of which appeared pleas- 
ant, verdant squares, while beyond appeared the Chinese 
quarter, seemingly imported from the Celestial Empire in 
a toy-box. Sombreros and red shirts and plumed Indians 
were rarely to be seen; but there were silk hats and black 
coats everywhere worn by a multitude of nervously active, 
gentlemanly-looking men. Some of the streets — especially 
Montgomery Street, which is to San Francisco what Regent 
Street is to London, the Boulevard des Italiens to Paris, and 
Broadway to New York — were lined with splendid and 
spacious stores, which exposed in their windows the products 
of the entire world. 

When Passepartout reached the International Hotel, it 
did not seem to him as if he had left England at all. 

The ground floor of the hotel was occupied by a large 


420 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

bar, a sort of restaurant freely open to all passers-by, who 
might partake of dried beef, oyster soup, biscuits, and 
cheese, without taking out their purses. Payment was made 
only for the ale, porter, or sherry which was drunk. This 
seemed “very American” to Passepartout. The hotel refresh- 
ment-rooms were comfortable, and Mr. Fogg an.d Aouda, 
installing themselves at a table, were abundantly served on 
diminutive plates by negroes of darkest hue. 

After breakfast, Mr. Fogg, accompanied by Aouda, 
started for the Enghsh consulate to have his passport visaed. 
As he was going out, he met Passepartout, who asked him 
if it would not be well, before taking the train, to purchase 
some dozens of Enfield rifles and Colt’s revolvers. He had 
been listening to stories of attacks upon the trains by the 
Sioux and Pawnees. Mr. Fogg thought it a useless precau- 
tion, but told him to do as he thought best, and went on to 
the consulate. 

He had not proceeded two hundred steps, however, when, 
“by the greatest chance in the world,” he met Fix. The 
detective seemed wholly taken by surprise. What ! Had Mr. 
Fogg and himself crossed the Pacific together, and not met 
on the steamer! At least Fix felt honoured to behold once 
more the gentleman to whom he owed so much, and, as his 
business recalled him to Europe, he should be delighted to 
continue the journey in such pleasant company. 

Mr. Fogg replied that the honour would be his; and the 
detective — who was determined not to lose sight of him — 
begged permission to accompany them in their walk about 
San Francisco — a request which Mr. Fogg readily granted. 

They soon found themselves in Montgomery Street, where 
a great crowd was collected; the side-walks, street, horse- 
car rails, the shop-doors, the windows of the houses, and 
even the roofs, were full of people. Men were going about 
carrying large posters, and flags and streamers were floating 
in the wind ; while loud cries were heard on every hand. 

“Hurrah for Camerfield !” 

“Hurrah for Mandiboy !” 

It was a political meeting; at least so Fix conjectured. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 421 

who said to Mr. Fogg, ‘‘Perhaps we had better not mingle 
with the crowd. There may be danger in it.” 

“Yes,” returned Mr. Fogg; “and blows, even if they are 
political are still blows.” 

Fix smiled at this remark; and, in order to be able to see 
without being jostled about, the party took up a position on 
the top of a flight of steps situated at the upper end of 
Montgomery Street. Opposite them, on the other side of the 
street, between a coal wharf and a petroleum warehouse, 
a large platform had been erected in the open air, towards 
which the current of the crowd seemed to be directed. 

For what purpose was this meeting.^ What was the oc- 
casion of this excited assemblage.? Phileas Fogg could not 
imagine. Was it to nominate some high official — a governor 
or member of , Congress.? It was not improbable, so agitated 
was the multitude before them. 

Just at this moment there was an unusual stir in the 
human mass. All the hands were raised in the air. Some, 
tightly closed, seemed to disappear suddenly in the midst 
of the cries — an energetic way, no doubt, of casting a vote. 
The crowd swayed back, the banners and flags wavered, 
disappeared an instant, then reappeared in tatters. The 
undulations of the human surge reached the steps, while all 
the heads floundered on the surface like a sea agitated by a 
squall. Many of the black hats disappeared, and the greater 
part of the crowd seemed to have diminished in height. 

“It is evidently a meeting,” said Fix, “and its object 
must be an exciting one. I should not wonder if it were about 
the Alabama, despite the fact that that question is settled.” 

“Perhaps,” replied Mr. Fogg, simply. 

“At least, there are two champions in presence of each 
other, the Honourable Mr. Camerfield and thfe Honourable 
Mr. Mandiboy.” 

Aouda, leaning upon Mr. Fogg’s arm, observed the 
tumultuous scene with surprise, while Fix asked a man near 
him what the cause of it all was. Before the man could reply, 
a fresh agitation arose; hurrahs and excited shouts were 
heard; the staffs of the banners began to be used as offen- 
sive weapons ; and fists flew about in every direction. Thumps 


422 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

were exchanged from the tops of the carriages and omni- 
buses which had been blocked up in the crowd. Boots and 
shoes went whirling through the air, and Mr. Fogg thought 
he even heard the crack of revolvers mingling in the din, 
the rout approached the stairway, and flowed over the lower 
step. One of the parties had evidently been repulsed ; but the 
mere lookers-on could not tell whether Mandiboy or Camer- 
field had gained the upper hand. 

“It would be prudent for us to retire,” said Fix, who was 
anxious that Mr. Fogg should not receive any injury, at 
least until they got back to London. “If there is any ques- 
tion about England in all this, and we were recognised, I 
fear it would go hard with us.” 

“An English subject ” began Mr. Fogg. 

He did not finish his sentence ; for a terrific hubbub now 
arose on the terrace behind the flight of steps where they 
stood, and there were frantic shouts of, “Hurrah for Mandi- 
boy! Hip, hip, hurrah!” 

It was a band of voters coming to the rescue of their allies, 
and taking the Camerfield forces in flank. INIr. Fogg, Aouda, 
and Fix found themselves between two fires ; it was too late 
to escape. The torrent of men, armed with loaded canes and 
sticks, was irresistible. Phileas Fogg and Fix were roughly 
hustled in their attempts to protect their fair companion; 
the former, as cool as ever, tried to defend himself with the 
weapons which nature has placed at the end of every Eng- 
lishman’s arm, but in vain. A big brawny fellow with a red 
beard, flushed face, and broad shoulders, who seemed to be 
the chief of the band, raised his clenched fist to strike Mr. 
Fogg, whom he would have given a crushing blow, had not 
Fix rushed in and received it in his stead. An enormous 
bruise immediately made its appearance under the detective’s 
silk hat, which was completely smashed in. 

“Yankee!” exclaimed Mr. Fogg, darting a contemptuous 
look at the ruffian. 

“Englishman!” returned the other. “We will meet 
again !” 

“When you please.” 

“What is your name.?” 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 423 

“Phileas Fogg. And yours 

“Colonel Stamp Proctor.” 

The human tide now swept by, after overturning Fix, 
who speedily got upon his feet again, though with tattered 
clothes. Happily, he was not seriously hurt. His travelling 
overcoat was divided into two unequal parts, and his trous- 
ers resembled those of certain Indians, which fit less com- 
pactly than they are easy to put on. Aouda had escaped 
unharmed, and Fix alone bore marks of the fray in his 
black and blue bruise. 

“Thanks,” said Mr. Fogg to the detective, as soon as they 
were out of the crowd. 

“No thanks are necessary,” replied Fix: “but let us e:o.” 

“Where?” 

“To a tailor’s.” 

Such a visit was, indeed, opportune. The clothing of both 
Mr. Fogg and Fix was in rags, as if they had themselves 
been actively engaged in the contest between Camerfield 
and Mandiboy. An hour after, they were once more suitably 
attired, and with Aouda returned to the International Hotel. 

Passepartout was waiting for his master, armed with half 
a dozen six-barrelled revolvers. When he perceived Fix, he 
knit his brows ; but Aouda having, in a few words, told him 
of their adventure, his countenance resumed its placid ex- 
pression. Fix evidently was no longer an enemy, but an ally ; 
he was faithfully keeping his word. 

Dinner over, the coach which was to convey the pas- 
sengers and their luggage to the station drew up to the door. 
As he was getting in, Mr. Fogg said to Fix, “You have not 
seen this Colonel Proctor again?” 

“No.” 

“I will come back to America to find him,” said Phileas 
Fogg calmly. “It would not be right for an Englishman to 
permit himself to be treated in that way, without re- 
taliating.” 

The detective smiled, but did not reply. It was clear that 
Mr. Fogg was one of those Englishmen who, while they do 
not tolerate duelling at home, fight abroad when their honour 
is attacked. 


424 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

At a quarter before six the travellers reached the station, 
and found the train ready to depart. As he was about to 
enter it, Mr. Fogg called a porter, and said to him: ‘‘My 
friend, was there not some trouble to-day in San Francisco.^” 

“It was a political meeting, sir,” replied the porter. 

“But I thought there was a great deal of disturbance in 
the streets.” 

“It was only a meeting assembled for an election.” 

“The election of a general-in-chief, no doubt asked 
Mr. Fogg. 

“No, sir; of a justice of the peace.” 

Phileas Fogg got into the train, which started off at full 
'^peed. 


CHAPTER XXVI 

IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG AND PARTY TRAVEL BY 
THE PACIFIC RAILROAD 

F ROM ocean to ocean” — so say the Americans ; and these 
four words compose the general designation of the “great 
trunk line” which crosses the entire width of the United 
States. The Pacific Railroad is, however, really divided into 
two distinct lines : the Central Pacific, between San Francisco 
and Ogden, and the Union Pacific, between Ogden and 
Omaha. Five main lines connect Omaha with New York. 

New York and San Francisco are thus united by an un- 
interrupted metal ribbon, which measures no less than three 
thousand seven hundred and eighty-six miles. Between 
Omaha and the Pacific the railway crosses a territory which 
is still infested by Indians and wild beasts, and a large tract 
which the Mormons, after they were driven from Illinois 
in 1845, began to colonise. 

The journey from New York to San Francisco consumed, 
formerly, under the most favourable conditions, at least six 
months. It is now accomplished in seven days. 

It was in 1862 that, in spite of the Southern Members of 
Congress, who wished a more southerly route, it was decided 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 425 

to lay the road between the forty-first and forty-second 
parallels. President Lincoln himself fixed the end of the line 
at Omaha, in Nebraska. The work was at once commenced, 
and pursued with true American energy ; nor did the rapid- 
ity with which it went on injuriously affect its good execu- 
tion. The road grew, on the prairies, a mile and a half a 
day. A locomotive, running on the rails laid do^vm the 
evening before, brought the rails to be laid on the morrow, 
and advanced upon them as fast as they were put in position. 

The Pacific Railroad is joined by several branches in 
Iowa, Kansas, Colorado, and Oregon. On leaving Omaha, 
it passes along the left bank of the Platte River as far as 
the junction of its northern branch, follows its southern 
branch, crosses the Laramie territory and the Wahsatch 
Mountains, turns the Great Salt Lake, and reaches Salt 
Lake City, the INIormon capital, plunges into the Tuilla 
Valley, across the American Desert, Cedar and Humboldt 
Mountains, the Sierra Nevada, and descends, via Sacra- 
mento, to the Pacific — its grade, even on the Rocky Moun- 
tains, never exceeding one hundred and twelve feet to the 
mile. 

Such was the road to be traversed in seven days, which 
would enable Phileas Fogg — at least, so he hoped — to take 
the Atlantic steamer at New York on the 11th for Liverpool. 

The car which he occupied was a sort of long omnibus 
on eight wheels, and with no compartments in the interior. 
It was supplied with two rows of seats, perpendicular to 
the direction of the train on either side of an aisle which 
conducted to the front and rear platforms. These platforms 
were found throughout the train, and the passengers were 
able to pass from one end of the train to the other. It was 
supplied with saloon cars, balcony cars, restaurants, and 
smoking-cars ; theatre cars alone were wanting, and they 
will have these some day. 

Rook and news dealers, sellers of edibles, drinkables, and 
cigars, who seemed to have plenty of customers, were con- 
tinually circulating in the aisles. 

The train left Oakland station at six o’clock. It was 
already night, cold and cheerless, the heavens being over- 


4j26 around the world in eighty days 

cast with clouds which seemed to threaten snow. The train 
did not proceed rapidly ; counting the stoppages, it did not 
run more than twenty miles an hour, which was a sufficient 
speed, however, to enable it to reach Omaha within its 
designated time. 

There was but little conversation in the car, and soon 
many of the passengers were overcome with sleep. Passe- 
partout found himself beside the detective; but he did not 
talk to him. After recent events, their relations with each 
other had grown somewhat cold; there could no longer be 
mutual sympathy or intimacy between them. Fix’s manner 
had not changed; but Passepartout was very reserved, and 
ready to strangle his former friend on the slightest prov- 
ocation. 

Snow began to fall an hour after they started, a fine snow, 
however, which happily could not obstruct the train ; noth- 
ing could be seen from the windows but a vast, white sheet, 
against which the smoke of the locomotive had a greyish 
aspect. 

At eight o’clock a steward entered the car and announced 
that the time for going to bed had arrived; and in a few 
minutes the car was transformed into a dormitory. The 
backs of the seats were thrown back, bedsteads carefully 
packed were rolled out by an ingenious system, berths were 
suddenly improvised, and each traveller had soon at his 
disposition a comfortable bed, protected from curious eyes 
by thick curtains. The sheets were clean and the pillows soft. 
It only remained to go to bed and sleep — which everybody 
did — while the train sped on across the State of California. 

The country between San Francisco and Sacramento is 
not very hilly. The Central Pacific, taking Sacramento for 
its starting-point, extends eastward to meet the road from 
Omaha. The line from San Francisco to Sacramento runs 
in a north-easterly direction, along the American River, 
which empties into San Pablo Bay. The one hundred and 
twenty miles between these cities were accomplished in six 
hours, and towards midnight, while fast asleep, the travellers 
passed through Sacramento; so that they saw nothing of 
that important place, the seat of the State government* 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 427 

with its fine quays, its broad streets, its noble hotels, squares, 
and churches. 

The train, on leaving Sacramento, and passing the junc- 
tion, Rodin, Auburn, and Colfax, entered the range of the 
Sierra Nevada. ’Cisco was reached at seven in the morning; 
and an hour later the dormitory was transformed into an 
ordinary car, and the travellers could observe the pictur- 
esque beauties of the mountain region through which they 
were steaming. The railway track wound in and out among 
the passes, now approaching the mountain-sides, now sus- 
pended over precipices, avoiding abrupt angles by bold 
curves, plunging into narrow defiles, which seemed to have 
no outlet. The locomotive, its great funnel emitting a weird 
light, with its sharp bell, and its cow-catcher extended like 
a spur, mingled its shrieks and bellowings with the noise of 
torrents and cascades, and twined its smoke among the 
branches of the gigantic pines. 

There were few or no bridges or tunnels on the route. 
The railway turned around the sides of the mountains, 
and did not attempt to violate nature by taking the shortest 
cut from one point to another. 

The train entered the State of Nevada through the Car- 
son Valley about nine o’clock, going always northeasterly; 
and at midday reached Reno, where there was a delay of 
twenty minutes for breakfast. 

From this point the road, running along Humboldt River, 
passed northward for several miles by its banks; then it 
turned eastward, and kept by the river until it reached the 
Humboldt Range, nearly at the extreme eastern limit of 
Nevada. 

Having breakfasted, Mr. Fogg and his companions re- 
sumed their places in the car, and observed the varied land- 
scape which unfolded itself as they passed along: the vast 
prairies, the mountains lining the horizon, and the creeks, 
with their frothy, foaming streams. Sometimes a great herd 
of buffaloes, massing together in the distance, seemed like 
a moveable dam. These innumerable multitudes of ruminat- 
ing beasts often form an insurmountable obstacle to the 
passage of the trains; thousands of them have been seen 


428 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

passing over the track for hours together, in compact ranks. 
The locomotive is then forced to stop and wait till the road 
is once more clear. 

This happened, indeed, to the train in which Mr. Fogg 
was travelling. About twelve o’clock a troop of ten or twelve 
thousand head of buffalo encumbered the track. The loco- 
motive, slackening its speed, tried to clear the way with its 
cow-catcher; but the mass of animals was too great. The 
buffaloes marched along with a tranquil gait, uttering now 
and then deafening bellowings. There was no use of inter- 
rupting them, for, having taken a particular direction, 
nothing can moderate and change their course; it is a 
torrent of living flesh which no dam could contain. 

The travellers gazed on this curious spectacle from the 
platforms; but Phileas Fogg, who had the most reason of 
all to be in a hurry, remained in his seat, and waited phil- 
osophically until it should please the buffaloes to get out 
of the way. 

Passepartout was furious at the delay they occasioned, 
and longed to discharge his arsenal of revolvers upon them. 

“What a country !” cried he. “Mere cattle stop the trains, 
and go by in a procession, just as if they were not impeding 
travel! Parbleu! I should like to know if Mr. Fogg fore- 
saw this mishap in his programme! And here’s an engineer 
who doesn’t dare to run the locomotive into this herd of 
beasts !” 

The engineer did not try to overcome the obstacle, and 
he was wise. He would have crushed the first buffaloes, no 
doubt, with the cow-catcher; but the locomotive, however 
powerful, would soon have been checked, the train would 
inevitably have been thrown off the track, and would then 
have been helpless. 

The best course was to wait patiently, and regain the lost 
time by greater speed when the obstacle was removed. The 
procession of buffaloes lasted three full hours, and it was 
night before the track was clear. The last ranks of the herd 
were now passing over the rails, while the first had already 
disappeared below the southern horizon. 

It was eight o’clock when the train passed through the 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 429 

defiles of the Humboldt Range, and half-past nine when it 
penetrated Utah, the region of the Great Salt Lake, the 
singular colony of the Mormons. 


CHAPTER XXVII 

IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT UNDERGOES, AT A SPEED OF TWENTY 
MILES AN HOUR, A COURSE OF MORMON HISTORY 

D URiNG the night of the 5th of December, the train ran 
south-easterly for about fifty miles; then rose an equal 
distance in a north-easterly direction, towards the Great 
Salt Lake. 

Passepartout, about nine o’clock, went out upon the 
platform to take the air. The weather was cold, the heavens 
grey, but it was not snowing. The sun’s disc, enlarged by 
the mist, seemed an enormous ring of gold, and Passe- 
partout was amusing himself by calculating its value in 
pounds sterling, when he was diverted from this interesting 
study by a strange-looking personage who made his appear- 
ance on the platform. 

This personage, who had taken the train at Elko, was 
tall and dark, with black moustache, black stockings, a 
black silk hat, a black waistcoat, black trousers, a white 
cravat, and dogskin gloves. He might have been taken for 
a clergyman. He went from one end of the train to the 
other, and affixed to the door of each car a notice written 
in manuscript. 

Passepartout approached and read one of these notices, 
which stated that Elder William Hitch, Mormon missionary, 
taking advantage of his presence on train No. 48, would 
deliver a lecture on Mormonism in car No. 117, from eleven 
to twelve o’clock; and that he invited all who were desirous 
of being instructed concerning the mysteries of the religion 
of the “Latter Day Saints” to attend. 

^T’ll go,” said Passepartout to himself. He knew nothing 
of Mormonism except the custom of polygamy, which is 
its foundation. 


4iS0 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

The news quickly spread through the train, which con- 
tained about one hundred passengers, thirty of whom, at 
most, attracted by the notice, ensconced themselves in car 
No. 117. Passepartout took one of the front seats. Neither 
Mr. Fogg nor Fix cared to attend. 

At the appointed hour Elder William Hitch rose, and, 
in an irritated voice, as if he had already been contradicted, 
said, “I tell you that J oe Smith is a martyr, that his brother 
Hiram is a martyr, and that the persecutions of the United 
States Government against the prophets will also make a 
Martyr of Brigham Young. Who dares to say the con- 
trary.?” 

No one ventured to gainsay the missionary, whose excited 
tone contrasted curiously with his naturally calm visage. 
No doubt his anger arose from the hardships to which the 
Mormons were actually subjected. The government had just 
succeeded, with some difficulty, in reducing these independ- 
ent fanatics to its rule. It had made itself master of Utah, 
and subjected that territory to the laws of the Union, after 
imprisoning Brigham Young on a charge of rebellion and 
polygamy. The disciples of the prophet had since redoubled 
their efforts, and resisted, by words at least, the authority 
of Congress. Elder Hitch, as is seen, was trying to make 
proselytes on the very railway trains. 

Then, emphasising his words with his loud voice and 
frequent gestures, he related the history of the Mormons 
from Biblical times : how that, in Israel, a Mormon prophet 
of the tribe of Joseph published the annals of the new 
religion, and bequeathed them to his son Mormon; how, 
many centuries later, a translation of this precious book, 
which was written in Egyptian, was made by Joseph Smith, 
junior, a Vermont farmer, who revealed himself as a 
mystical prophet in 1825; and how, in short, the celestial 
messenger appeared to him in an illuminated forest, and 
gave him the annals of the Lord. 

Several of the audience, not being much interested in 
the missionary’s narrative, here left the car; but Elder 
Hitch, continuing his lecture, related how Smith, junior, 
with his father, two brothers, and a few disciples, founded 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 431 

the church of the “Latter Day Saints,” which, adopted 
not only in America, but in England, Norway and Sweden, 
and Germany, counts many artisans, as well as men engaged 
in the liberal professions, among its members ; how a colony 
was established in Ohio, a temple erected there at a cost of 
two hundred thousand dollars, and a town built at Kirk- 
land; how Smith became an enterprising banker, and re- 
ceived from a simple mummy showman a papyrus scroll 
written by Abraham and several famous Egyptians. 

The Elder’s story became somewhat wearisome, and his 
audience grew gradually less, until it was reduced to twenty 
passengers. But this did not disconcert the enthusiast, who 
proceeded with the story of Joseph Smith’s bankruptcy in 
1837, and how liis ruined creditors gave him a coat of tar 
and feathers ; his reappearance some years afterwards, more 
honourable and honoured than ever, at Independence, Mis- 
souri, the chief of a flourishing colony of three thousand 
disciples, and his pursuit thence by outraged Gentiles, and 
retirement into the Far West. 

Ten hearers only were now left, among them honest Passe- 
partout, who was listening with all his ears. Thus he learned 
that, after long persecutions. Smith reappeared in Illinois, 
and in 1839 founded a community at Nauvoo, on the Mis- 
sissippi, numbering twenty-five thousand souls, of which he 
became mayor, chief justice, and general-in-chief ; that he 
announced himself, in 1843, as a candidate for the Presi- 
dency of the United States; and that finally, being drawn 
into ambuscade at Carthage, he was thrown into prison, and 
assassinated by a band of men disguised in masks. 

Passepartout was now the only person left in the car, 
and the Elder, looking him full in the face, reminded him 
that, two years after the assassination of Joseph Smith, the 
inspired prophet, Brigham Young, his successor, left 
Nauvoo for the banks of the Great Salt Lake, where, in the 
midst of that fertile region, directly on the route of the 
emigrants who crossed Utah on their way to California, the 
new colony, thanks to the polygamy practised by the Mor- 
mons, had flourished beyond expectations. 

“And this,” added Elder William Hitch, “this is why the 


4}32 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

jealousy of Congress has been aroused against us! Why 
have the soldiers of the Union invaded the soil of Utah? 
Why has Brigham Young, our chief, been imprisoned, in 
contempt of all justice? Shall we yield to force? Never! 
Driven from Vermont, driven from Illinois, driven from 
Ohio, driven from Missouri, driven from Utah, we shall 
yet find some independent territory on which to plant our 
tents. And you, my brother,” continued the Elder, fixing 
his angry eyes upon his single auditor, ‘‘will you not plant 
yours there, too, under the shadow of our flag?” 

“No!” replied Passepartout courageously, in his turn 
retiring from the car, and leaving the Elder to preach to 
vacancy. 

During the lecture the train had been making good 
progress, and towards half-past twelve it reached the north- 
west border of the Great Salt Lake. Thence the passengers 
could observe the vast extent of this interior sea, which is 
also called the Dead Sea, and into which flows an American 
Jordan. It is a picturesque expanse, framed in lofty crags 
in large strata, encrusted with white salt — a superb sheet 
of water, which was formerly of larger extent than now, its 
shores having encroached with the lapse of time, and thus at 
once reduced its breadth and increased its depth. 

The Salt Lake, seventy miles long and thirty-five wide, 
is situated three miles eight hundred feet above the sea. 
Quite different from Lake Asphaltite, whose depression is 
twelve hundred feet below the sea, it contains considerable 
salt, and one quarter of the weight of its water is solid 
matter, its specific weight being 1,170, and, after being 
distilled, 1,000. Fishes are, of course, unable to live in it, 
and those which descend through the Jordan, the Weber, 
and other streams soon perish. 

The country around the lake was well cultivated, for the 
Mormons are mostly farmers; while ranches and pens for 
domesticated animals, fields of wheat, corn, and other cereals, 
luxuriant prairies, hedges of wild rose, clumps of acacias and 
milk- wort, would have been seen six months later. Now the 
ground was covered with a thin powdering of snow. 

The train reached Ogden at two o’clock, where it rested 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 4)33 

for six hours, Mr. Fogg and his party had time to pay a 
visit to Salt Lake City, connected with Ogden by a branch 
road ; and they spent two hours in this strikingly American 
to^\m, built on the pattern of other cities of the Union, 
like a checker-board, “with the sombre sadness of right- 
angles,” as Victor Hugo expresses it. The founder of the 
City of the Saints could not escape from the taste for sym- 
metry which distinguishes the Anglo-Saxons. In this strange 
country, where the people are certainly not up to the level 
of their institutions, everything is done “squarely” — cities, 
houses, and follies. 

The travellers, then, were promenading, at three o’clock, 
about the streets of the town built between the banks of 
the Jordan and the spurs of the Wahsatch Range. They 
saw few or no churches, but the prophet’s mansion, the 
court-house, and the arsenal, blue-brick houses with ver- 
andas and porches, surrounded by gardens bordered with 
acacias, palms, and locusts. A clay and pebble wall, built 
in 1853, surrounded the town; and in the principal street 
were the market and several hotels adorned with pavilions. 
The place did not seem thickly populated. The streets were 
almost deserted, except in the vicinity of the temple, which 
they only reached after having traversed several quarters 
surrounded by palisades. There were many women, which 
was easily accounted for by the “peculiar institution” of the 
Mormons ; but it must not be supposed that all the Mormons 
are polygamists. They are free to marry or not, as they 
please; but it is worth noting that it is mainly the female 
citizens of Utah who are anxious to marry, as, according to 
the Mormon religion, maiden ladies are not admitted to the 
possession of its highest joys. These poor creatures seemed 
to be neither well off nor happy. Some — the more well-to-do, 
no doubt — wore short, open black silk dresses, under a hood 
or modest shawl ; others were habited in Indian fashion. 

Passepartout could not behold without a certain fright 
these women, charged, in groups, with conferring happiness 
on a single Mormon. His common sense pitied, above all, the 
husband. It seemed to him a terrible thing to have to guide 
so many wives at once across the vicissitudes of life, and to 


434 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

conduct them, as it were, in a body to the Mormon paradise^ 
with the prospect of seeing them in the company of the 
glorious Smith, who doubtless was the chief ornament of 
that delightful place, to all eternity. He felt decidedly re- 
pelled from such a vocation, and he imagined — perhaps he 
was mistaken — ^that the fair ones of Salt Lake City cast 
rather alarming glances on his person. Happily, his stay 
there was but brief. At four the party found themselves 
again at the station, took their places in the train, and the 
whistle sounded for starting. Just at the moment, however, 
that the locomotive wheels began to move, cries of ‘‘Stop! 
stop I” were heard. 

Trains, like time and tide, stop for no one. The gentle- 
man who uttered the cries was evidently a belated Mormon. 
He was breathless with running. Happily for him, the 
station had neither gates nor barriers. He rushed along 
the track, jumped on the rear platform of the train, and 
fell, exhausted, into one of the seats. 

Passepartout, who had been anxiously watching this 
amateur gymnast, approached him with lively interest, and 
learned that he had taken flight after an unpleasant 
domestic scene. 

When the Mormon had recovered his breath. Passepar- 
tout ventured to ask him politely how many wives he had; 
for, from the manner in which he had decamped, it might 
be thought that he had twenty at least. 

“One, sir,” replied the Mormon, raising his arms heaven- 
ward — “one, and that was enough!” 


CHAPTER XXVIII 

IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT DOES NOT SUCCEED IN MAKING 
ANYBODY LISTEN TO REASON 

The train, on leaving Great Salt Lake at Ogden, passed 
northward for an hour as far as Weber River, having com- 
pleted nearly nine hundred miles from San Francisco. From 
this point it took an easterly direction towards the jagged 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 435 

Wahsatch Mountains. It was in the section included be- 
tween this range and the Rocky Mountains that the Amer- 
ican engineers found the most formidable difficulties in lay- 
ing the road, and that the government granted a subsidy 
of forty-eight thousand dollars per mile, instead of sixteen 
thousand allowed for the work done on the plains. But the 
engineers, instead of violating nature, avoided its difficulties 
by winding around, instead of penetrating the rocks. One 
tunnel only, fourteen thousand feet in length, was pierced in 
order to arrive at the great basin. 

The track up to this time had reached its highest eleva- 
tion at the Great Salt Lake. From this point it described a 
long curve, descending towards Bitter Creek Valley, to 
rise again to the dividing ridge of the waters between the 
Atlantic and the Pacific. There were many creeks in this 
mountainous region, and it was necessary to cross Muddy 
Creek, Green Creek, and others, upon culverts. 

Passepartout grew more and more impatient as they went 
on, while Fix longed to get out of this difficult region, and 
was more anxious than Phileas Fogg himself to be beyond 
the danger of delays and accidents, and set foot on English 
soil. 

At ten o’clock at night the train stopped at Fort Bridger 
station, and twenty minutes later entered Wyoming Terri- 
tory, following the valley of Bitter Creek throughout. The 
next da}^, 7th December, they stopped for a quarter of an 
hour at Green River station. Snow had fallen abundantly 
during the night, but, being mixed with rain, it had half 
melted, and did not interrupt their progress. The bad 
weather, however, annoyed Passepartout; for the accumu- 
lation of snow, by blocking the wheels of the cars, would 
certainly have been fatal to Mr. Fogg’s tour. 

‘‘What an idea !” he said to himself. “Why did my master 
make this journey in winter.? Couldn’t he have waited for 
the good season to increase his chances.?” 

While the worthy Frenchman was absorbed in the state 
of the sky and the depression of the temperature, Aouda 
was experiencing fears from a totally different cause. 

Several passengers had got off at Green River, and were 


436 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

walking up and down the platforms ; and among these Aoudr 
recognised Colonel Stamp Proctor, the same who had so 
grossly insulted Phileas Fogg at the San Francisco meeting. 
Not wishing to be recognised, the young woman drew back 
from the window, feeling much alarm at her discovery. She 
was attached to the man who, however coldly, gave her daily 
evidences of the most absolute devotion. She did not com- 
prehend, perhaps, the depth of the sentiment with which her 
protector inspired her, which she called gratitude, but which, 
though she was unconscious of it, was really more than that. 
Her heart sank within her when she recognised the man 
whom Mr. Fogg desired, sooner or later, to call to account 
for his conduct. Chance alone, it was clear, had brought 
Colonel Proctor on this train; but there he was, and it was 
necessary, at all hazards, that Phileas Fogg should not per- 
ceive his adversary. 

Aouda seized a moment when Mr. Fogg was asleep to 
tell Fix and Passepartout whom she had seen. 

‘‘That Proctor on this train!” cried Fix. “Well, re- 
assure yourself, madam; before he settles with Mr. Fogg, 
he has got to deal with me! It seems to me that I was the 
more insulted of the two.” 

“And, besides,” added Passepartout, “I’ll take charge of 
him, colonel as he is.” 

“Mr. Fix,” resumed Aouda, “Mr. Fogg will allow no 
one to avenge him. He said that he would come back to 
America to find this man. Should he perceive Colonel Proc- 
tor, we could not prevent a collision which might have 
terrible results. He must not see him.” 

“You are right, madam,” replied Fix; “a meeting be- 
tween them might ruin all. Whether he were victorious or 
beaten, Mr. Fogg would be delayed, and ” 

“And,” added Passepartout, “that would play the game 
of the gentlemen of the Reform Club. In four days we shall 
be in New York. Well, if my master does not leave this car 
during those four days, we may hope that chance will not 
bring him face to face with this confounded American. We 
must, if possible, prevent his stirring out of it.” 

The conversation dropped. Mr. Fogg had just woke up. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 4?S7 


and was looking out of the window. Soon after Passepartout, 
without being heard by his master or Aouda, whispered to 
the detective, ‘‘Would you really fight for him?” 

“I would do anything,” replied Fix, in a tone which be- 
trayed determined will, “to get him back living to Europe !” 

Passepartout felt something like a shudder shoot through 
his frame, but his confidence in his master remained un- 
broken. 

Was there any means of detaining Mr. Fogg in the car, 
to avoid a meeting between him and the colonel? It 
ought not to be a difficult task, since that gentleman was 
naturally sedentary and little curious. The detective, at 
least, seemed to have found a way ; for, after a few moments, 
he said to Mr. Fogg, “These are long and slow hours, sir, 
that we are passing on the railway.” 

“Yes,” replied Mr. Fogg; “but they pass.” 

“You were in the habit of playing whist,” resumed Fix, 
“on the steamers.” 

“Yes ; but it would be diflficult to do so here. I have neither 
cards nor partners.” 

“Oh, but we can easily buy some cards, for they are sold 
on all the American trains. And as for partners, if madam 
plays ” 

“Certainly, sir,” Aouda quickly replied; “I understand 
whist. It is part of an English education.” 

“I myself have some pretensions to playing a good game. 
Well, here are three of us, and a dummy ” 

“As you please, sir,” replied Phileas Fogg, heartily glad 
to resume his favourite pastime — even on the railway. 

Passepartout was despatched in search of the steward, 
and soon returned with two packs of cards, some pins, 
counters, and a shelf covered with cloth. 

The game commenced. Aouda understood whist sufficiently 
well, and even received some compliments on her playing 
from Mr. Fogg. As for the detective, he was simply an 
adept, and worthy of being matched against his present op- 
ponent. 

“Now,” thought Passepartout, “we’ve got him. He won’t 
budge.” 


438 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

At eleven in the morning the train had reached the 
dividing ridge of the waters at Bridger Pass, seven thousand 
five hundred and twenty-four feet above the level of the 
sea, one of the highest points attained by the track in cross- 
ing the Rocky Mountains. After going about two hundred 
miles, the travellers at last found themselves on one of those 
vast plains which extend to the Atlantic, and which nature 
has made so propitious for laying the iron road. 

On the declivity of the Atlantic basin the first streams, 
branches of the North Platte River, already appeared. The 
whole northern and eastern horizon was bounded by the 
immense semi-circular curtain which is formed by the south- 
ern portion of the Rocky Mountains, the highest being 
Laramie Peak. Between this and the railway extended vast 
plains, plentifully irrigated. On the right rose the lower 
spurs of the mountainous mass which extends southward to 
the sources of the Arkansas River, one of the great tribu- 
taries of the Missouri. 

At half -past twelve the travellers caught sight for an in- 
stant of Fort Halleck, which commands that section; and 
in a few more hours the Rocky Mountains were crossed. 
There was reason to hope, then, that no accident would 
mark the journey through this difficult country. The snow 
had ceased falling, and the air became crisp and cold. Large 
birds, frightened by the locomotive, rose and flew off in the 
distance. No wild beast appeared on the plain. It was a 
desert in its vast nakedness. 

After a comfortable breakfast, served in the car, Mr. Fogg 
and his partners had just resumed whist, when a violent 
whistling was heard, and the train stopped. Passepartout 
put his head out of the door, but saw nothing to cause the 
delay; no station was in view. 

Aouda and Fix feared that Mr. Fogg might take it into 
his head to get out; but that gentleman contented himself 
with saying to his servant, “See what is the matter.” 

Passepartout rushed out of the car. Thirty or forty 
passengers had already descended, amongst them Colonel 
Stamp Proctor. 

The train had stopped before a red signal which blocked 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 4^39 

the way. The engineer and conductor were talking excitedly 
with a signal-man, whom the station-master at Medicine 
Bow, the next stopping place, had sent on before. The 
passengers drew around and took part in the discussion, in 
which Colonel Proctor, with his insolent manner, was con- 
spicuous. 

Passepartout, joining the group, heard the signal-man 
say, ‘‘No! you can’t pass. The bridge at Medicine Bow is 
shaky, and would not bear the weight of the train.” 

This was a suspension-bridge thrown over some rapids, 
about a mile from the place where they now were. Accord- 
ing to the signal-man, it was in a ruinous condition, several 
of the iron wires being broken; and it was impossible to 
risk the passage. He did not in any way exaggerate the 
condition of the bridge. It may be taken for granted that, 
rash as the Americans usually are, when they are prudent 
there is good reason for it. 

Passepartout, not daring to apprise his master of what 
he heard, listened with set teeth, immovable as a statue. 

“Hum!” cried Colonel Proctor; “but we are not going 
to stay here, I imagine, and take root in the snow.^^” 

“Colonel,” replied the conductor, “we have telegraphed to 
Omaha for a train, but it is not likely that it will reach 
Medicine Bow is less than six hours.” 

“Six hours!” cried Passepartout. 

“Certainly,” returned the conductor, “besides, it will take 
us as long as that to reach Medicine Bow on foot.” 

“But it is only a mile from here,” said one of the 
passengers. 

“Yes, but it’s on the other side of the river.” 

“And can’t we cross that in a boat.?^” asked the colonel. 

“That’s impossible. The creek is swelled by the rains. It 
is a rapid, and we shall have to make a circuit of ten miles 
to the north to find a ford.” 

The colonel launched a volley of oaths, denouncing the 
railway company and the conductor; and Passepartout, 
who was furious, was not disinclined to make common cause 
with him. Here was an obstacle, indeed, which all his mas- 
ter’s banknotes could not remove. 


44?0 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 


There was a general disappointment among the passen- 
gers, who, without reckoning the delay, saw themselves 
compelled to trudge fifteen miles over a plain covered with 
snow. They grumbled and protested, and would certainly 
have thus attracted Phileas Fogg’s attention if he had not 
been completely absorbed in his game. 

Passepartout found that he could not avoid telling his 
master what had occurred, and, with hanging head, he was 
turning towards the car, when the engineer — a true Yankee, 
named Forster — called out, “Gentlemen, perhaps there is a 
way, after all, to get over.” 

“On the bridge.^” asked a passenger. 

“On the bridge.” 

“With our train.?” 

“With our train.” 

Passepartout stopped short, and eagerly listened to the 
engineer. 

“But the bridge is unsafe,” urged the conductor. 

“No matter,” replied Forster; “I think that by putting 
on the very highest speed we might have a chance of getting 
over.” 

“The devil !” muttered Passepartout. 

But a number of the passengers were at once attracted by 
the engineer’s proposal, and Colonel Proctor was especially 
delighted, and found the plan a very feasible one. He told 
stories about engineers leaping their trains over rivers with- 
out bridges, by putting on full steam; and many of those 
present avowed themselves of the engineer’s mind. 

“We have fifty chances out of a hundred of getting over,’^ 
said one. 

“Eighty! ninety!” 

Passepartout was astounded, and, though ready to at- 
tempt anything to get over Medicine Creek, thought the 
experiment proposed a little too American. “Besides,” 
thought he, “there’s a still more simple way, and it does 
not even occur to any of these people! Sir,” said he aloud 
to one of the passengers, “the engineer’s plan seems to me a 
little dangerous, but ” 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 441 

‘‘Eighty chances !” replied the passenger, turning his 
back on him. 

“I know it,” said Passepartout, turning to another passen- 
ger, “but a simple idea ” 

“Ideas are no use,” returned the American, shrugging 
his shoulders, “as the engineer assures us that we can pass.” 

“Doubtless,” urged Passepartout, “we can pass, but per- 
haps it would be more prudent ” 

“What ! Prudent !” cried Colonel Proctor, whom this word 
seemed to excite prodigiously. “At full speed, don’t you 
see, at full speed !” 

“I know — I see,” repeated Passepartout; “but it would 
be, if not more prudent, since that word displeases you, at 
least more natural ” 

“Who! What! What’s the matter with this fellow cried 
several. 

The poor fellow did not know to whom to address himself. 

“Are you afraid.^” asked Colonel Proctor. 

“I afraid! Very well; I will show these people that a 
Frenchman can be as American as they!” 

“All aboard!” cried the conductor. 

“Yes, all aboard!” repeated Passepartout, and imme- 
diately. “But they can’t prevent me from thinking that it 
would be more natural for us to cross the bridge on foot, 
and let the train come after !” 

But no one heard this sage reflection, nor would anyone 
have acknowledged its justice. The passengers resumed their 
places in the cars. Passepartout took his seat without telling 
what had passed. The whist-players were quite absorbed in 
their game. 

The locomotive whistled vigorously ; the engineer, revers- 
ing the steam, backed the train for nearly a mile — retiring, 
like a jumper, in order to take a longer leap. Then, with 
another whistle, he began to move forward; the train in- 
creased its speed, and soon its rapidity became frightful; 
a prolonged screech issued from the locomotive; the piston 
worked up and down twenty strokes to the second. They 
perceived that the whole train, rushing on at the rate of a 
hundred miles an hour, hardly bore upon the rails at all. 


442 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

And they passed over! It was like a flash. No one saw the 
bridge. The train leaped, so to speak, from one bank to the 
other, and the engineer could not stop it until it had gone 
five miles beyond the station. But scarcely had the train 
passed the river, when the bridge, completely ruined, fell 
with a crash into the rapids of Medicine Bow. 


CHAPTER XXIX 

IN WHICH CERTAIN INCIDENTS ARE NARRATED WHICH ARE 
ONLY TO BE MET WITH ON AMERICAN RAILROADS 

T HE train pursued its course, that evening, without inter- 
ruption, passing Fort Saunders, crossing Cheyne Pass, and 
reaching Evans Pass. The road here attained the highest 
elevation of the journey, eight thousand and ninety-two feet 
above the level of the sea. The travellers had now only to 
descend to the Atlantic by limitless plains, levelled by nature. 
A branch of the “grand trunk” led off southward to Denver, 
the capital of Colorado. The country round about is rich in 
gold and silver, and more than fifty thousand inhabitants 
are already settled there. 

Thirteen hundred and eighty-two miles had been passed 
over from San Francisco, in three days and three nights; 
four days and nights more would probably bring them to 
New York. Phileas Fogg was not as yet behind-hand. 

During the night Camp Walbach was passed on the left; 
Lodge Pole Creek ran parallel with the road, marking the 
boundary between the territories of Wyoming and Colorado. 
They entered Nebraska at eleven, passed near Sedgwick, and 
touched at Julesburg, on the southern branch of the Platte 
River. 

It was here that the Union Pacific Railroad was inau- 
gurated on the 23rd of October, 1867, by the chief engineer. 
General Dodge. Two powerful locomotives, carrying nine 
cars of invited guests, amongst whom was Thomas C. Dur- 
ant, vice-president of the road, stopped at this point ; cheers 
were given, the Sioux and Pawnees performed an imitatioii 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 443 

Indian battle, fireworks were let off, and the first number of 
the Railway Pioneer was printed by a press brought on the 
train. Thus was celebrated the inauguration of this great 
railroad, a mighty instrument of progress and civilisation, 
thrown across the desert, and destined to link together cities 
and towns which do not yet exist. The whistle of the loco- 
motive, more powerful than Amphion’s lyre, was about to 
bid them rise from American soil. 

Fort McPherson was left behind at eight in the morning, 
and three hundred and fifty-seven miles had yet to be 
traversed before reaching Omaha. The road followed the 
capricious windings of the southern branch of the Platte 
River, on its left bank. At nine the train stopped at the 
important town of North Platte, built between the two 
arms of the river, which rejoin each other around it and 
form a single artery — a large tributary whose waters empty 
into the Missouri a little above Omaha. 

The one hundred and first meridian was passed. 

Mr. Fogg and his partners had resumed their game; no 
one — not even the dummy — complained of the length of the 
trip. Fix had begun by winning several guineas, which he 
seemed likely to lose ; but he showed himself a not less eager 
whist-player than Mr. Fogg. During the morning, chance 
distinctly favoured that gentleman. Trumps and honours 
were showered upon his hands. 

Once, having resolved on a bold stroke, he was on the 
point of playing a spade, when a voice behind him said, “1 
should play a diamond.” 

Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Fix raised their heads, and beheld 
Colonel Proctor. 

Stamp Proctor and Phileas Fogg recognised each other at 
once. 

‘‘Ah! it’s you, is it, Englishman.?” cried the colonel; “it’s 
you who are going to play a spade I” 

“And who plays it,” replied Phileas Fogg coolly, throw- 
ing down the ten of spades. 

“Well, it pleases me to have it diamonds,” replied Colonel 
Proctor, in an insolent tone. 

He made a movement as if to seize the card which had 


444 < AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

just been played, adding, ‘‘You don’t understand anything 
about whist.” 

“Perhaps I do, as well as another,” said Phileas Fogg, 
rising. 

“You have only to try, son of John Bull,” replied the 
colonel. 

Aouda turned pale, and her blood ran cold. She seized 
Mr. Fogg’s arm and gently pulled him back. Passepartout 
was ready to pounce upon the American, who was staring 
insolently at his opponent. But Fix got up, and, going to 
Colonel Proctor said, “You forget that it is I with whom 
you have to deal, sir ; for it was I whom you not only insulted, 
but struck!” 

“Mr. Fix,” said Mr. Fogg, “pardon me, but this affair 
is mine, and mine only. The colonel has again insulted me, 
by insisting that I should not play a spade, and he shall give 
me satisfaction for it.” 

“When and where you will,” replied the American, “and 
with whatever weapon you choose.” 

Aouda in vain attempted to retain Mr. Fogg; as vainly 
did the detective endeavour to make the quarrel his. 
Passepartout wished to throw the colonel out of the vdndow, 
but a sign from his master checked him. Phileas Fogg left 
the car, and the American followed him upon the platform. 
“Sir,” said Mr. Fogg to his adversary, “I am in a great 
hurry to get back to Europe, and any delay whatever will 
be greatly to my disadvantage.” 

“Well, what’s that to me.?” replied Colonel Proctor. 

“Sir,” said Mr. Fogg, very politely, “after our meeting 
at San Francisco, I determined to return to America and 
find you as soon as I had completed the business which 
called me to England.” 

“Really!” 

“Will you appoint a meeting for six months hence.?” 

“Why not ten years hence.?” 

“I say six months,” returned Phileas Fogg; “and I shall 
be at the place of meeting promptly.” 

“All this is an evasion,” cried Stamp Proctor. “Now or 
never !” 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 445 

“Very good. You are going to New York.?” 

“No.” 

“To Chicago.?” 

“No.” 

“To Omaha.?” 

“What difference is it to you.? Do you know Plum Creek?” 

“No,” replied Mr. Fogg. 

“It’s the next station. The train will be there in an hour, 
and will stop there ten minutes. In ten minutes several re- 
volver-shots could be exchanged.” 

“Very well,” said Mr. Fogg. “I will stop at Plum Creek.” 

“And I guess you’ll stay there too,” added the American 
insolently. 

“Who knows.?” replied Mr. Fogg, returning to the car 
as coolly as usual. He began to reassure Aouda, telling her 
that blusterers were never to be feared, and begged Fix to 
be his second at the approaching duel, a request which the 
detective could not refuse. Mr. Fogg resumed the inter- 
rupted game with perfect calmness. 

At eleven o’clock the locomotive’s whistle announced that 
they were approaching Plum Creek station. Mr. Fogg rose, 
and, followed by Fix, went out upon the platform. Passe- 
partout accompanied him, carrying a pair of revolvers. 
Aouda remained in the car, as pale as death. 

The door of the next car opened, and Colonel Proctor 
appeared on the platform, attended by a Yankee of his own 
stamp as his second. But just as the combatants were about 
to step from the train, the conductor hurried up, and 
shouted, “You can’t get off, gentlemen !” 

“Why not.?” asked the colonel. 

“We are twenty minutes late, and we shall not stop.” 

“But I am going to fight a duel with this gentleman.” 

“I am sorry,” said the conductor; “but we shall be off 
at once. There’s the bell ringing now.” 

The train started. 

“I’m really very sorry, gentlemen,” said the conductor. 
“Under any other circumstances I shoud have been happy 
to oblige you. But, after all, as you have not had time to 


^46 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

“That wouldn’t be convenient, perhaps, for this gentle- 
man,” said the colonel, in a jeering tone. 

“It would be perfectly so,” replied Phileas Fogg. 

“Well, we are really in America,” thought Passepartout, 
“and the conductor is a gentleman of the first order!” 

So muttering, he followed his master. 

The two combatants, their seconds, and the conductor 
passed through the cars to the rear of the train. The last 
car was only occupied by a dozen passengers, whom the 
conductor politely asked if they would not be so kind as to 
leave it vacant for a few moments, as two gentlemen had an 
affair of honour to settle. The passengers granted the re- 
quest with alacrity, and straightway disappeared on the 
platform. 

The car, which was some fifty feet long, was very con- 
venient for their purpose. The adversaries might march 
on each other in the aisle, and fire at their ease. Never was 
duel more easily arranged. Mr. Fogg and Colonel Proctor, 
each provided with two six-barrelled revolvers, entered the 
car. The seconds, remaining outside, shut them in. They 
were to begin firing at the first whistle of the locomotive. 
After an interval of two minutes, what remained of the two 
gentlemen would be taken from the car. 

Nothing could be more simple. Indeed, it was all so 
simple that Fix and Passepartout felt their hearts beating 
as if they would crack. They were listening for the whistle 
agreed upon, when suddenly savage cries resounded in the 
air, accompanied by reports which certainly did not issue 
from the car where the duellists were. The reports continued 
in front and the whole length of the train. Cries of terror 
proceeded from the interior of the cars. 

Colonel Proctor and Mr. Fogg, revolvers in hand, hastily 
quitted their prison, and rushed forward where the noise 
was most clamorous. They then perceived that the train was 
attacked by a band of Sioux. 

This was not the first attempt of these daring Indians, 
for more than once they had waylaid trains on the road. 
A hundred of them had, according to their habit, jumped 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 447 

upon the steps without stopping the train, with the ease of 
a clown mounting a horse at full gallop. 

The Sioux were armed with guns, from which came the 
reports, to which the passengers, who were almost all armed, 
responded by revolver-shots. 

The Indians had first mounted the engine, and half 
stunned the engineer and stoker with blows from their 
muskets. A Sioux chief, wishing to stop the train, but not 
knowing how to work the regulator, had opened wide instead 
of closing the steam-valve, and the locomotive was plunging 
forward with terrific velocity. 

The Sioux had at the same time invaded the cars, skip- 
ping like enraged monkeys over the roofs, thrusting open 
the doors, and fighting hand to hand with the passengers. 
Penetrating the baggage-car, they pillaged it, throwing the 
trunks out of the train. The cries and shots were constant. 
The travellers defended themselves bravely; some of the 
cars were barricaded, and sustained a siege, like moving 
forts, carried along at a speed of a hundred miles an hour. 

Aouda behaved courageously from the first. She defended 
herself like a true heroine with a revolver, which she shot 
through the broken windows whenever a savage made his 
appearance. Twenty Sioux had fallen mortally wounded 
to the ground, and the wheels crushed those who fell upon 
the rails as if they had been worms. Several passengers, 
shot or stunned, lay on the seats. 

It was necessary to put an end to the struggle, which had 
lasted for ten minutes, and which would result in the triumph 
of the Sioux if the train was not stopped. Fort Kearney 
station, where there was a garrison, was only two miles dis- 
tant; but, that once passed, the Sioux would be masters of 
the train between Fort Kearney and the station beyond. 

The conductor was fighting beside Mr. Fogg, when he 
was shot and fell. At the same moment he cried, “Unless 
the train is stopped in five minutes, we are lost!” 

“It shall be stopped,” said Phileas Fogg, preparing to 
rush from the car. 

“Stay, monsieur,” cried Passepartout; “I will go.” 

Mr. Fogg had not time to stop the brave fellow, who, 


448 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

opening a door unperceived by the Indians, succeeded in 
slipping under the car; and while the struggle continued, 
and the balls whizzed across each other over his head, he 
made use of his old acrobatic experience, and with amazing 
agility worked his way under the cars, holding on to the 
chains, aiding himself by the brakes and edges of the sashes, 
creeping from one car to another with marvellous skill, and 
thus gaining the forward end of the train. 

There, suspended by one hand between the baggage-car 
and the tender, with the other he loosened the safety chains ; 
but, owing to the traction, he would never have succeeded in 
unscrewing the yoking-bar, had not a violent concussion 
jolted this bar out. The train, now detached from the 
engine, remained a little behind, whilst the locomotive rushed 
forward with increased speed. 

Carried on by the force already acquired, the train still 
moved for seyeral minutes ; but the brakes were worked and 
at last they stopped, less than a hundred feet from Kearney 
station. 

The soldiers of the fort, attracted by the shots, hurried 
up ; the Sioux had not expected them, and decamped in a 
body before the train entirely stopped. 

But when the passengers counted each other on the station 
platform several were found missing ; among others the cour- 
ageous Frenchman, whose devotion had just saved them. 


CHAPTER XXX 

IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG SIMPLY DOES HIS DUTY 

Three passengers — including Passepartout — had disap- 
peared. Had they been killed in the struggle.?^ Were they 
taken prisoners by the Sioux It was impossible to tell. 

There were many wounded, but none mortally. Colonel 
Proctor was one of the most seriously hurt; he had fought 
bravely, and a ball had entered his groin. He was carried 
into the station with the other wounded passengers, to re- 
ceive such attention as could be of avail. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 44)9 

Aouda was safe; and Phileas Fogg, who had been in the 
thickest of the fight, had not received a scratch. Fix was 
slightly wounded in the arm. But Passepartout was not to 
be found, and tears coursed down Aouda’s cheeks. 

All the passengers had got out of the train, the wheels of 
which were stained with blood. From the tyres and spokes 
hung ragged pieces of flesh. As far as the eye could reach 
on the white plain behind, red trails were visible. The last 
Sioux were disappearing in the south, along the banks of 
Republican River. 

Mr. Fogg, with folded arms, remained motionless. He 
had a serious decision to make. Aouda, standing near him, 
looked at him without speaking, and he understood her 
look. If his servant was a prisoner, ought he not to risk 
everything to rescue him from the Indians “I will find him, 
living or dead,” said he quietly to Aouda. 

“Ah, Mr. — Mr. Fogg !” cried she, clasping his hands and 
covering them with tears. 

“Living,” added Mr. Fogg, “if we do not lose a moment.” 

Phileas Fogg, by this resolution, inevitably sacrificed 
himself ; he pronounced his own doom. The delay of a single 
day would make him lose the steamer at New York, and his 
bet would be certainly lost. But as he thought, “It is my 
duty,” he did not hesitate. 

The commanding officer of Fort Kearney was there. A 
hundred of his soldiers had placed themselves in a position 
to defend the station, should the Sioux attack it. 

“Sir,” said Mr. Fogg to the captain, “three passengers 
have disappeared.” 

“Dead.?” asked the captain. 

“Dead or prisoners; that is the uncertainty which must 
be solved. Do you propose to pursue the Sioux.?” 

“That’s a serious thing to do, sir,” returned the captain. 
“These Indians may retreat beyond the Arkansas, and I 
cannot leave the fort unprotected.” 

“The lives of three men are in question, sir,” said Phileas 
Fogg. 

“Doubtless ; but can I risk the lives of fifty men to save 
three?” 


450 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

‘‘I don’t know whether you can, sir; but you ought to 
do so.” 

“Nobody here,” returned the other, “has a right to teach 
me my duty.” 

“Very well,” said Mr. Fogg, coldly. “I will go alone.” 

“You, sir !” cried Fix, coming up ; “you go alone in pur- 
suit of the Indians.?” 

“Would you have me leave this poor fellow to perish — 
him to whom every one present owes his life.? I shall go.” 

“No, sir, you shall not go alone,” cried the captain, 
touched in spite of himself. “No! you are a brave man. 
Thirty volunteers!” he added, turning to the soldiers. 

The whole company started forward at once. The captain 
had only to pick his men. Thirty were chosen, and an old 
sergeant placed at their head. 

“Thanks, captain,” said Mr. Fogg. 

“Will you let me go with you.?” asked Fix. 

as you please, sir. But if you wish to do me a favour, 
you will remain with Aouda. In case anything should happen 
to me ” 

A sudden pallor overspread the detective’s face. Separate 
himself from the man whom he had so persistently followed 
step by step ! Leave him to wander about in this desert ! 
Fix gazed attentively at Mr. Fogg, and, despite his sus- 
picions and of the struggle which was going on within him, 
he lowered his eyes before that calm and frank look. 

“I will stay,” said he. 

A few moments after, Mr. Fogg pressed the young 
woman’s hand, and, having confided to her his precious 
carpet-bag, went off with the sergeant and his little squad. 
But, before going, he had said to the soldiers, “My friends, 
I will divide five thousand dollars among you, if we save 
the prisoners.” 

It was then a little past noon. 

Aouda retired to a waiting-room, and there she waited 
alone, thinking of the simple and noble generosity, the 
tranquil courage of Phileas Fogg. He had sacrificed his 
fortune, and was now risking his life, all without hesitation, 
from duty, in silence. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 451 

Fix did not have the same thoughts, and could scarcely 
conceal his agitation. He walked feverishly up and down 
the platform, but soon resumed his outward composure. He 
now saw the folly of which he had been guilty in letting 
^'ogg go alone. What! This man, whom he had just followed 
around the world, was permitted now to separate himself 
from him! He began to accuse and abuse himself, and, as 
if he were director of police, administered to himself a sound 
lecture for his greenness. 

“I have been an idiot!” he thought, “and this man will 
see it. He has gone, and won’t come back ! But how is it that 
I, Fix, who have in my pocket a warrant for his arrest, have 
been so fascinated by him.^^ Decidedly, I am nothing but 
an ass !” 

So reasoned the detective, while the hours crept by all too 
slowly. He did not know what to do. Sometimes he was 
tempted to tell Aouda all; but he could not doubt how the 
young woman would receive his confidences. What course 
should he take.^ He thought of pursuing Fogg across the 
vast white plains; it did not seem impossible that he might 
overtake him. Footsteps were easily printed on the snow! 
But soon, under a new sheet, every imprint would be 
effaced. 

Fix became discouraged. He felt a sort of insurmount- 
able longing to abandon the game altogether. He could now 
leave Fort Kearney station, and pursue his journey home- 
ward in peace. 

Towards two o’clock in the afternoon, while it was snow- 
ing hard, long whistles were heard approacliing from the 
east. A great shadow, preceded by a wild light, slowly ad- 
vanced, appearing still larger through the mist, which gave 
it a fantastic aspect. No train was expected from the east, 
neither had there been time for the succour asked for by 
telegraph to arrive ; the train from Omaha to San Francisco 
was not due till the next day. The mystery was soon ex- 
plained. 

The locomotive, which was slowly approaching with 
deafening whistles, was that which, having been detached 
from the train, had continued its route with such terrific 


452 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

rapidity, carrying off the unconscious engineer and stoker. 
It had run several miles, when, the fire becoming low for 
want of fuel, the steam had slackened; and it had finally 
stopped an hour after, some twenty miles beyond Fort 
Kearney. Neither the engineer nor the stoker was dead, 
and, after remaining for some time in their swoon, had 
come to themselves. The train had then stopped. The engi- 
neer, when he found himself in the desert, and the locomo- 
tive without cars, understood what had happened. He could 
not imagine how the locomotive had become separated from 
the train; but he did not doubt that the train left behind 
was in distress. 

He did not hesitate what to do. It would be prudent to 
continue on to Omaha, for it would be dangerous to return 
to the train, which the Indians might still be engaged in 
pillaging. Nevertheless, he began to rebuild the fire in the 
furnace; the pressure again mounted, and the locomotive 
returned, running backwards to Fort Kearney. This it was 
which was whistling in the mist. 

The travellers were glad to see the locomotive resume 
its place at the head of the train. They could now continue 
the journey so terribly interrupted. 

Aouda, on seeing the locomotive come up, hurried out 
of the station, and asked the conductor, ‘‘Are you going 
to start 

“At once, madam.” 

“But the prisoners, our unfortunate fellow-travel- 
lers ” 

“I cannot interrupt the trip,” replied the conductor. 
“We are already three hours behind time.” 

“And when will another train pass here from San 
Francisco.?” 

“To-morrow evening, madam.” 

“To-morrow evening! But then it will be too late! We 
must wait ” 

“It is impossible,” responded the conductor. “If you wish 
to go, please get in.” 

“I will not go,” said Aouda. 

Fix had heard this convprsation. A little while before, 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 4>5S 

when there was no prospect of proceeding on the journey, 
he had made up his mind to leave Fort Kearney; but now 
that the train was there, ready to start, and he had only to 
take his seat in the car, an irresistible influence held him 
back. The station platform burned his feet, and he could 
not stir. The conflict in his mind again began ; anger and 
failure stifled him. He wished to struggle on to the end. 

Meanwhile the passengers and some of the wounded, 
among them Colonel Proctor, whose injuries were serious, 
had taken their places in the train. The buzzing of the over- 
heated boiler was heard, and the steam was escaping from 
the valves. The engineer whistled, the train started, and 
soon disappeared, mingling its white smoke with the eddies 
of the densely falling snow. 

The detective had remained behind. 

Several hours passed. The weather was dismal, and it was 
very cold. Fix sat motionless on a bench in the station; he 
might have been thought asleep. Aouda, despite the storm, 
kept coming out of the waiting-room, going to the end of 
the platform, and peering through the tempest of snow, as 
if to pierce the mist which narrowed the horizon around her, 
and to hear, if possible, some welcome sound. She heard and 
saw nothing. Then she would return, chilled through, to 
issue out again after the lapse of a few moments, but always 
in vain. 

Evening came, and the little band had not returned. 
Where could they be.^^ Had they found the Indians, and 
were they having a conflict with them, or were they still 
wandering amid the mist.? The commander of the fort was 
anxious, though he tried to conceal his apprehensions. As 
night approached, the snow fell less plentifully, but it be- 
came intensely cold. Absolute silence rested on the p-ains. 
Neither flight of bird nor passing of beast troubled the 
perfect calm. 

Throughout the night Aouda, full of sad forebodings, her 
heart stifled with anguish, wandered about on the verge of 
the plains. Her imagination carried her far off, and showed 
her innumerable dangers. What she suffered through the 
long hours it would be impossible to describe. 


454 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

Fix remained stationary in the same place, but did not 
sleep. Once a man approached and spoke to him, and the 
detective merely replied by shaking his head. 

Thus the night passed. At dawn, the half-extinguished 
disc of the sun rose above a misty horizon; but it was now 
possible to recognise objects two miles off. Phileas Fogg 
and the squad had gone southward; in the south all was 
still vacancy. It was then seven o’clock. 

The captain, who was really alarmed, did not know what 
course to take. 

Should he send another detachment to the rescue of the 
first? Should he sacrifice more men, with so few chances of 
saving those already sacrificed? His hesitation did not last 
long, ho>vever. Calling one of his lieutenants, he was on the 
point of ordering a reconnaissance, when gunshots were 
heard. Was it a signal? The soldiers rushed out of the fort, 
and half a mile off they perceived a little band returning in 
good order. 

Mr. Fogg was marching at their head, and just behind 
him were Passepartout and the other two travellers, rescued 
from the Sioux. 

They had met and fought the Indians ten miles south of 
Fort Kearney. Shortly before the detachment arrived. 
Passepartout and his companions had begun to struggle 
with their captors, three of whom the Frenchman had felled 
with his fists, when his master and the soldiers hastened up 
to their relief. 

All were welcomed with joyful cries. Phileas Fogg dis- 
tributed the reward he had promised to the soldiers, while 
Passepartout, not without reason, muttered to himself, ‘Tt 
must certainly be confessed that I cost my master dear !” 

Fix, without saying a word, looked at Mr. Fogg, and it 
would have been difficult to analyse the thoughts which 
struggled within him. As for Aouda, she took her protector’s 
hand and pressed it in her own, too much moved to speak. 

Meanwhile, Passepartout was looking about for the train ; 
he thought he should find it there, ready to start for Omaha, 
and he hoped that the time lost might be regained. 

“The train ! the train !” cried he. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 


455 


‘‘Gone,” replied Fix. 

“And when does the next train pass here.^^” said Phileas 
Fogg. 

“Not till this evening.” 

“Ah!” returned the impassible gentleman quietly. 


CHAPTER XXXI 

IN WHICH FIX THE DETECTIVE CONSIDERABLY FURTHERS THE 
INTERESTS OF PHILEAS FOGG 

P HiLEAS Fogg found himself twenty hours behind time. 
Passepartout, the involuntary cause of this delay, was 
desperate. He had ruined his master I 

At this moment the detective approached Mr. Fogg, and, 
looking him intently in the face, said: 

“Seriously, sir, are you in great haste .^” 

“Quite seriously.” 

“I have a purpose in asking,” resumed Fix. “Is it abso- 
lutely necessary that you should be in New York on the 
11th, before nine o’clock in the evening, the time that the 
steamer leaves for Liverpool.^” 

“It is absolutely necessary.” 

“And, if your journey had not been interrupted by 
these Indians, you would have reached New York on the 
morning of the llth.^^” 

“Yes ; with eleven hours to spare before the steamer left.” 
“Good! you are therefore twenty hours behind. Twelve 
from twenty leaves eight. You must regain eight hours. Do 
you wish to try to do so.^^” 

“On foot.?” asked Mr. Fogg. 

“No ; on a sledge,” replied Fix. “On a sledge with sails. 
A man has proposed such a method to me.” 

It was the man who had spoken to Fix during the night, 
and whose offer he had refused. 

Phileas Fogg did not reply at once; but Fix, having 
pointed out the man, who was walking up and down in front 
of the station, Mr. Fogg went up to him. An instant after. 


456 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

Mr. Fogg and the American, whose name was Mudge, en- 
tered a hut built just below the fort. 

There Mr. Fogg examined a curious vehicle, a kind of 
frame on two long beams, a little raised in front like the 
runners of a sledge, and upon which there was room for five 
or six persons. A high mast was fixed on the frame, held 
firmly by metallic lashings, to which was attached a large 
brigantine sail. This mast held an iron stay upon which to 
hoist a jib-sail. Behind, a sort of rudder served to guide the 
vehicle. It was, in short, a sledge rigged like a sloop. During 
the winter, when the trains are blocked up by the snow, these 
sledges make extremely rapid journeys across the frozen 
plains from one station to another. Provided with more sails 
than a cutter, and with the wind behind them, they slip 
over the surface of the prairies with a speed equal if not 
superior to that of the express trains. 

Mr. Fogg readily made a bargain with the owner of this 
land-craft. The wind was favourable, being fresh, and blow- 
ing from the west. The snow had hardened, and Mudge was 
very confident of being able to transport Mr. Fogg in a 
few hours to Omaha. Thence the trains eastward run fre- 
quently to Chicago and New York. It was not impossible 
that the lost time might yet be recovered ; and such an op- 
portunity was not to be rejected. 

Not wishing to expose Aouda to the discomforts of travel- 
ling in the open air, Mr. Fogg proposed to leave her with 
Passepartout at Fort Kearney, the servant taking upon 
himself to escort her to Europe by a better route and under 
more favourable conditions. But Aouda refused to separate 
from Mr. Fogg, and Passepartout was delighted with her 
decision; for nothing could induce him to leave his master 
while Fix was with him. 

It would be difficult to guess the detective’s thoughts. 
Was this conviction shaken by Phileas Fogg’s return, or 
did he still regard him as an exceedingly shrewd rascal, Avho, 
his journey round the world completed, would think himself 
absolutely safe in England? Perhaps Fix’s opinion of 
Phileas Fogg was somewhat modified; but he was neverthe- 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 457 

less resolved to do his duty, and to hasten the return of the 
whole party to England as much as possible. 

At eight o’clock the sledge was ready to start. The 
passengers took their places on it, and wrapped themselves 
up closely in their travelling-cloaks. The two great sails 
were hoisted, and under the pressure of the wind the sledge 
slid over the hardened snow with a velocity of forty miles 
an hour. 

The distance between Fort Kearney and Omaha, as the 
birds fly, is at most two hundred miles. If the wind held 
good, the distance might be traversed in five hours ; if no 
accident happened the sledge might reach Omaha by one 
o’clock. 

What a journey! The travellers, huddled close together, 
could not speak for the cold, intensified by the rapidity at 
which they were going. The sledge sped on as lightly as a 
boat over the waves. When the breeze came skimming the 
earth the sledge seemed to be lifted off the ground by its 
sails. Mudge, who was at the rudder, kept in a straight 
line, and by a turn of his hand checked the lurches which 
the vehicle had a tendency to make. All the sails were up, 
and the jib was so arranged as not to screen the brigantine. 
A top-mast was hoisted, and another jib, held out to the 
wind, added its force to the other sails. Although the speed 
could not be exactly estimated, the sledge could not be going 
at less than forty miles an hour. 

‘Tf nothing breaks,” said Mudge, “we shall get there!” 

Mr. Fogg had made it for Mudge’s interest to reach 
Omaha within the time agreed on, by the offer of a hand- 
some reward. 

The prairie, across which the sledge was moving in a 
straight line, was as flat as a sea. It seemed like a vast 
frozen lake. The railroad which ran through this section 
ascended from the south-west to the north-west by Great 
Island, Columbus, an important Nebraska town, Schuyler, 
and Fremont, to Omaha. It followed throughout the right 
bank of the Platte River. The sledge, shortening this route, 
took a chord of the arc described by the railway. Mudge 
was not afraid of being stopped by the Platte River, be- 


458 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

cause it was frozen. The road, then, was quite clear of ob- 
stacles, and Phileas Fogg had but two things to fear — an 
accident to the sledge, and a change or calm in the wind. 

But the breeze, far from lessening its force, blew as if to 
bend the mast, which, however, the metallic lashings held 
firmly. These lashings, like the chords of a stringed instru- 
ment, resounded as if vibrated by a violin bow. The sledge 
slid along in the midst of a plaintively intense melody. 

“Those chords give the fifth and the octave,” said Mr. 
Fogg. 

These were the only words he uttered during the journey. 
Aouda, cosily packed in furs and cloaks, was sheltered as 
much as possible from the attacks of the freezing wind. 
As for Passepartout, his face was as red as the sun’s disc 
when it sets in the mist, and he laboriously inhaled the biting 
air. With his natural buoyancy of spirits, he began to hope 
again. They would reach New York on the evening, if not on 
the morning, of the 11th, and there was still some chances 
that it would be before the steamer sailed for Liverpool. 

Passepartout even felt a strong desire to grasp his ally. 
Fix, by the hand. He remembered that it was the detective 
who procured the sledge, the only means of reaching Omaha 
in time; but, checked by some presentiment, he kept his 
usual reserve. One thing, however. Passepartout would 
never forget, and that was the sacrifice which Mr. Fogg 
had made, without hesitation, to rescue him from the Sioux. 
Mr. Fogg had risked his fortune and his life. No! His serv- 
ant would never forget that! 

While each of the party was absorbed in reflections so 
different, the sledge flew past over the vast carpet of snow. 
The creeks it passed over were not perceived. Fields and 
streams disappeared under the uniform whiteness. The plain 
was absolutely deserted. Between the Union Pacific road and 
the branch which unites Kearney with Saint Joseph it 
formed a great uninhabited island. Neither village, station, 
nor fort appeared. From time to time they sped by some 
phantom-like tree, whose white skeleton twisted and rattled 
in the wind. Sometimes flocks of wild birds rose, or bands 
of gaunt, famished, ferocious prairie-wolves ran howling 


AROUND THE WORED IN EIGHTY DAYS 459 

after the sledge. Passepartout, revolver in hand, held him- 
self ready to fire on those which came too near. Had an acci- 
dent then happened to the sledge, the travellers, attacked by 
these beasts, would have been in the most terrible danger ; 
but it held on its even course, soon gained on the wolves^ 
and ere long left the howling band at a safe distance behind. 

About noon Mudge perceived by certain landmarks that 
he was crossing the Platte River. He said nothing, but he 
felt certain that he was now within twenty miles of Omaha. 
In less than an hour he left the rudder and furled his sails, 
whilst the sledge, carried forward by the great impetus the 
wind had given it, went on half a mile further with its sails 
unspread. 

It stopped at last, and Mudge, pointing to a mass of roofs 
white with snow, said: ‘‘We have got there!” 

Arrived! Arrived at the station which is in daily com- 
munication, by numerous trahis, with the Atlantic sea- 
board ! 

Passepartout and Fix jumped off, stretched their stif- 
fened limbs, and aided Mr. Fogg and the young woman to 
descend from the sledge. Phileas Fogg generously rewarded 
Mudge, whose hand Passepartout warmly grasped, and the 
party directed their steps to the Omaha railway station. 

The Pacific Railroad proper finds its terminus at this 
important Nebraska town. Omaha is connected with Chi- 
cago by the Chicago and Rock Island Railroad, which runs 
directly east, and passes fifty stations. 

A train was ready to start when Mr. Fogg and his party 
reached the station, and they only had time to get into 
the cars. They had seen nothing of Omaha; but Passepar- 
tout confessed to himself that this was not to be regretted, 
as they were not travelling to see the sights. 

The train passed rapidly across the State of Iowa, by 
Council Bluffs, Des Moines, and Iowa City. During the 
night it crossed the Mississippi at Davenport, and by Rock 
Island entered Illinois. The next day, which was the 10th, 
at four o’clock in the evening, it reached Chicago, already 
risen from its ruins, and more proudly seated than ever on 
the borders of its beautiful Lake Michigan. 


460 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

Nine hundred miles separated Chicago from New York; 
but trains are not wanting at Chicago. Mr. Fogg passed at 
once from one to the other, and the locomotive of the Pitts- 
burg, Fort Wayne, and Chicago Railway left at full speed, 
as if it fully comprehended that that gentleman had no 
time to lose. It traversed Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and 
New Jersey like a flash, rushing through towns with antique 
names, some of which had streets and car-tracks, but as yet 
no houses. At last the Hudson came into view ; and, at a 
quarter-past eleven in the evening of the 11th, the train 
stopped in the station on the right bank of the river, before 
the very pier of the Cunard line. 

The China^ for Liverpool, had started three-quarters of 
an hour before! 


CHAPTER XXXII 

IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG ENGAGES IN A DIRECT 
STRUGGLE WITH BAD FORTUNE 

The China, in leaving, seemed to have carried off Phileas 
Fogg’s last hope. None of the other steamers were able to 
serve his projects. The Pereire, of the French Transatlantic 
Company, whose admirable steamers are equal to any in 
speed and comfort, did not leave until the 14th; the Ham- 
burg boats did not go directly to Liverpool or London, but 
to Havre; and the additional trip from Havre to South- 
ampton would render Phileas Fogg’s last efforts of no avail. 
The Inman steamer did not depart till the next day, and 
could not cross the Atlantic in time to save the wager. 

Mr. Fogg learned all this in consulting his Bradshaw, 
which gave him the daily movements of the trans-Atlantic 
steamers. 

Passepartout was crushed; it overwhelmed him to lose 
the boat by three-quarters of an hour. It was his fault, for, 
instead of helping his master, he had not ceased putting 
obstacles in his path I And when he recalled all the incidents 
of the tour, when he counted up the sums expended in pure 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS- 461 

loss and on his own account, when he thought that the im- 
mense stake, added to the heavy charges of this useless 
journey, would completely ruin Mr. Fogg, he overwhelmed 
himself with bitter self-accusations. Mr. Fogg, however, did 
not reproach him; and, on leaving the Cunard pier, only 
said: “We will consult about what is best to-morrow. Come.” 

The party crossed the Hudson in the Jersey City ferry- 
boat, and drove in a carriage to the St. Nicholas Hotel, on 
Broadway. Rooms were engaged, and the night passed, 
briefly to Phileas Fogg, who slept profoundly, but very long 
to Aouda and the others, whose agitation did not permit 
them to rest. 

The next day was the 12th of December. From seven in 
the morning of the 12th to a quarter before nine in the even- 
ing of the 21st there were nine days, thirteen hours, and 
forty-five minutes. If Phileas Fogg had left in the China, one 
of the fastest steamers on the Atlantic, he would have 
reached Liverpool, and then London, within the period 
agreed upon. 

Mr. Fogg left the hotel alone, after giving Passepartout 
instructions to await his return, and inform Aouda to be 
ready at an instant’s notice. He proceeded to the banks of 
the Hudson, and looked about among the vessels moored 
or anchored in the river, for any that were about to depart. 
Several had departure signals, and were preparing to put 
to sea at morning tide; for in this immense and admirable 
port there is not one day in a hundred that vessels do not 
set out for every quarter of the globe. But they were mostly 
sailing vessels, of which, of course, Phileas Fogg could make 
no use. 

He seemed about to give up all hope, when he espied, 
anchored at the Battery, a cable’s length off at most, a 
trading vessel, with a screw, well-shaped, whose funnel, 
puffing a cloud of smoke, indicated that she was getting 
ready for departure. 

Phileas Fogg hailed a boat, got into it, and soon found 
himself on board the Henrietta, iron-hulled, wood-built 
above. He ascended to the deck, and asked for the captain, 
who forthwith presented himself. He was a man of fifty. 


4 } 6 ^ AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 


a sort of sea-wolf, with big eyes, a complexion of oxidised 
copper, red hair and thick neck, and a growling voice. 

“The captain.?” asked Mr. Fogg. 

“I am the captain.” 

“I am Phileas Fogg, of London.” 

“And I am Andrew Speedy, of Cardiff.” 

“You are going to put to sea.?” 

“In an hour.” 

“You are bound for ” 

“Bordeaux.” 

“And your cargo.?” 

“No freight. Going in ballast.” 

“Have you any passengers.?” 

“No passengers. Never have passengers. Too much in 
the way.” 

“Is your vessel a swift one.?” 

“Between eleven and twelve knots. The Henrietta, well 
known.” 

“Will you carry me and three other persons to Liver- 
pool?” 

“To Liverpool? Why not to China?” 

“I said Liverpool.” 

“No!” 

“No.?” 

“No. I am setting out for Bordeaux, and shall go to 
Bordeaux.” 

“Money is no object?” 

“None.” 

The captain spoke in a tone which did not admit of a 
reply. 

“But the owners of the Henrietta ” resumed Phileas 

Fogg. 

“The owners are myself,” replied the captain. “The 
vessel belongs to me.” 

“I will freight it for you.” 

“No.” 

“I will buy it of you.” 

“No.” 

Phileas Fogg did not betray the least disappointment; 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 4)63 

but the situation was a grave one. It was not at New York 
as at Hong Kong, nor with the captain of the Henrietta as 
with the captain of the Tankadere. Up to this time money 
had smoothed away every obstacle. Now money failed. 

Still, some means must be found to cross the Atlantic on 
a boat, unless by balloon — which would have been venture- 
some, besides not being capable of being put in practice. It 
seemed that Phileas Fogg had an idea, for he said to the 
captain, “Well, will you carry me to Bordeaux.?” 

“No, not if you paid me two hundred dollars.” 

“I offer you two thousand.” 

“Apiece?” 

“Apiece.” 

“And there are four of you?” 

“Four.” 

Captain Speedy began to scratch his head. There were 
eight thousand dollars to gain, without changing his route; 
for which it was well worth conquering the repugnance he 
had for all kinds of passengers. Besides, passengers at two 
thousand dollars are no longer passengers, but valuable 
merchandise. “I start at nine o’clock,” said Captain Speedy, 
simply. “Are you and your party ready?” 

“We will be on board at nine o’clock,” replied, no less 
simply, Mr. Fogg. 

It was half-past eight. To disembark from the Henrietta^ 
jump into a hack, hurry to the St. Nicholas, and return with 
Aouda, Passepartout, and even the inseparable Fix was the 
work of a brief time, and was performed by Mr. Fogg with 
the coolness which never abandoned him. They were on 
board when the Henrietta made ready to weigh anchor. 

When Passepartout heard what this last voyage was going 
to cost, he uttered a prolonged “Oh!” which extended 
throughout his vocal gamut. 

As for Fix, he said to himself that the Bank of England 
would certainly not come out of this affair well indemnified. 
When they reached England, even if Mr. Fogg did not 
throw some handfuls of bank-bills into the sea, more than 
seven thousand pounds would have been spent! 


464? AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

CHAPTER XXXIII 

IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG SHOWS HIMSELF EQUAL TO 
THE OCCASION 

-/\n hour after, the Henrietta passed tlie lighthouse which 
marks the entrance of the Hudson, turned the point of 
Sandy Hook, and put to sea. During the day she skirted 
Long Island, passed Fire Island, and directed her course 
rapidly eastward. 

At noon the next day, a man mounted the bridge to ascer- 
tain the vessel’s position. It might be thought that this was 
Captain Speedy. Not the least in the world. It was Phileas 
Fogg, Esquire. As for Captain Speedy, he was shut up in 
his cabin under lock and key, and was uttering loud cries, 
which signified an anger at once pardonable and excessive. 

What had happened was very simple. Phileas Fogg 
wished to go to Liverpool, but the captain would not carry 
him there. Then Phileas Fogg had taken passage for Bor- 
deaux, and, during the thirty hours he had been on board, 
had so shrewdly managed with his banknotes that the sailors 
and stokers, who were only an occasional crew, and were 
not on the best terms with the captain, went over to him in 
a body. This was why Phileas Fogg was in command instead 
of Captain Speedy; why the captain was a prisoner in his 
cabin; and why, in short, the Henrietta was directing her 
course towards Liverpool. It was very clear, to see Mr. Fogg 
manage the craft, that he had been a sailor. 

How the adventure ended will be seen anon. Aouda was 
anxious, though she said nothing. As for Passepartout, he 
thought Mr. Fogg’s manoeuvre simply glorious. The captain 
had said “between eleven and twelve knots,” and the 
Henrietta confirmed his prediction. 

If, then — for there were “ifs” still — the sea did. not be- 
come too boisterous, if the wind did not veer round to the 
east, if no accident happened to the boat or its machinery, 
the Henrietta might cross the three thousand miles from 
New York to Liverpool in the nine days, between the 12th 
and the 21st of December. It is true that, once arrived, the 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 465 

affair on board the Henrietta, added to that of the Bank of 
England, might create more difficulties for Mr. Fogg than 
he imagined or could desire. 

During the first days, they went along smoothly enough. 
The sea was not very unpropitious, the wind seemed sta- 
tionary in the north-east, the sails were hoisted, and the 
Henrietta ploughed across the waves like a real trans-At- 
lantic steamer. 

Passepartout was delighted. His master’s last exploit, the 
consequences of which he ignored, enchanted him. Never had 
the crew seen so jolly and dexterous a fellow. He formed 
warm friendships with the sailors, and amazed them with 
his acrobatic feats. He thought they managed the vessel 
like gentlemen, and that the stokers fired up like heroes. 
His loquacious good-humour infected everyone. He had for- 
gotten the past, its vexations and delays. He only thought 
of the end, so nearly accomplished ; and sometimes he boiled 
over with impatience, as if heated by the furnaces of the 
Henrietta, Often, also, the worthy fellow revolved around 
Fix, looking at him with a keen, distrustful eye; but he did 
not speak to him, for their old intimacy no longer existed. 

Fix, it must be confessed, understood nothing of what 
was going on. The conquest of the Henrietta, the bribery of 
the crew, Fogg managing the boat like a skilled seaman, 
amazed and confused him. He did not know what to think. 
For, after all, a man who began by stealing fifty-five thou- 
sand pounds might end by stealing a vessel; and Fix was 
not unnaturally inclined to conclude that the Henrietta, 
under Fogg’s command, was not going to Liverpool at all, 
but to some part of the world where the robber, turned 
into a pirate, would quietly put himself in safety. The con- 
jecture was at least a plausible one, and the detective began 
to seriously regret that he had embarked on the affair. 

As for Captain Speedy, he continued to howl and growl 
in his cabin ; and Passepartout, whose duty it was to carry 
him his meals, courageous as he was, took the greatest pre- 
cautions. Mr. Fogg did not seem even to know that there 
was a captain on board. 

On the 13th they passed the edge of the Banks of New- 


466 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

foundland, a dangerous locality; during the winter, espe- 
cially, there are frequent fogs and heavy gales of wind. 
Ever since the evening before the barometer, suddenly fall- 
ing, had indicated an approaching change in the atmos- 
phere; and during the night the temperature varied, the 
cold became sharper, and the wind veered to the south-east. 

This was a misfortune. Mr. Fogg, in order not to deviate 
from his course, furled his sails and increased the force of 
the steam; but the vessel’s speed slackened, owing to the 
state of the sea, the long waves of which broke against the 
stern. She pitched violently, and this retarded her progress. 
The breeze little by little swelled into a tempest, and it was 
to be feared that the Henrietta might not be able to main- 
tain herself upright on the waves. 

Passepartout’s visage darkened with the skies, and for 
two days the poor fellow experienced constant fright. But 
Phileas Fogg was a bold mariner, and knew how to main- 
tain headway against the sea; and he kept on his course,, 
without even decreasing his steam. The Henrietta^ when she 
could not rise upon the waves, crossed them, swamping her 
deck, but passing safely. Sometimes the screw rose out of 
the water, beating its protruding end, when a mountain of 
water raised the stern above the waves ; but the craft always 
kept straight ahead. 

The wind, however, did not grow as boisterous as might 
have been feared; it was not one of those tempests which 
burst, and rush on with a speed of ninety miles an hour. It 
continued fresh, but, unhappily, it remained obstinately in 
the south-east, rendering the sails useless. 

The 16th of December was the seventy-fifth day since 
Phileas Fogg’s departure from London, and the Henrietta 
had not yet been seriously delayed. Half of the voyage was 
almost accomplished, and the worst localities had been 
passed. In summer, success would have been well-nigh cer- 
tain. In wdnter, they were at the mercy of the bad season. 
Passepartout said nothing ; but he cherished hope in secret, 
and comforted himself with the reflection that, if the wind 
failed them, they might still count on the steam. 

On this day the engineer came on deck, went up to Mr 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 467 

Fogg, and began to speak earnestly with him. Without 
knowing why — it was a presentiment, perhaps — Passepar- 
tout became vaguely uneasy. He would have given one of 
his ears to hear with the other what the engineer was saying. 
He finally managed to catch a few words, and was sure he 
heard his master say, “You are certain of what you tell me.^” 

“Certain, sir,” replied the engineer. “You must remem- 
ber that, since we started, we have kept up hot fires in all 
our furnaces, and, though we had coal enough to go on short 
steam from New York to Bordeaux, we haven’t enough to 
go with all steam from New York to Liverpool.” 

“I will consider,” replied Mr. Fogg. 

Passepartout understood it all; he was seized with mortal 
anxiety. The coal was giHng out! “Ah, if my master can 
get over that,” muttered he, “he’ll be a famous man!” He 
could not help imparting to Fix what he had overheard. 

“Then you believe that we really are going to Liverpool.?” 

“Of course.” 

“Ass !” replied the detective, shrugging his shoulders and 
turning on his heel. 

Passepartout was on the point of vigorously resenting the 
epithet, the reason of which he could not for the life of him 
comprehend; but he reflected that the unfortunate Fix was 
probably very much disappointed and humiliated in his self- 
esteem, after having so awkwardly followed a false scent 
around the world, and refrained. 

And now what course would Phileas Fogg adopt.? It was 
difficult to imagine. Nevertheless he seemed to have decided 
upon one, for that evening he sent for the engineer, and 
said to him, “Feed all the fires until the coal is exhausted.” 

A few moments after, the funnel of the Henrietta vomited 
forth torrents of smoke. The vessel continued to proceed 
with all steam on; but on the 18 th, the engineer, as he had 
predicted, announced that the coal would give out in the 
course of the day. 

“Do not let the fires go down,” replied Mr. Fogg. “Keep 
them up to the last. Let the valves be filled.” 

Towards noon Phileas Fogg, having ascertained their 
position, called Passepartout, and ordered him to go for 


468 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

Captain Speedy. It was as if the honest fellow had been 
commanded to unchain a tiger. He went to the poop, saying 
to himself, “He will be like a madman!” 

In a few moments, with cries and oaths, a bomb appeared 
on the poop-deck. The bomb was Captain Speedy. It was 
clear that he was on the point of bursting. “Where are we.^^” 
were the first words his anger permitted him to utter. Had 
the poor man been apoplectic, he could never have recovered 
from his paroxysm of wrath. 

“Where are we.^” he repeated, with purple face. 

“Seven hundred and seven miles from Liverpool,” replied 
Mr. Fogg, with imperturbable calmness. 

“Pirate I” -cried Captain Speedy. 

“I have sent for you, sir ” 

“Pickaroon I” 

“ — sir,” continued Mr. Fogg, “to ask you to sell me your 
vessel.” 

“No! By all the devils, no!” 

“But I shall be obhged to burn her.” 

“Burn the Henrietta !” 

“Yes ; at least the upper part of her. The coal has given 
out.” 

“Burn my vessel!” cried Captain Speedy, who could 
scarcely pronounce the words. “A vessel worth fifty thou- 
sand dollars!” 

“Here are sixty thousand,’ replied Phileas Fogg, hand- 
ing the captain a roll of bank-bills. This had a prodigious 
effect on Andrew Speedy. An American can scarcely re- 
main unmoved at the sight of sixty thousand dollars. The 
captain forgot in an instant his anger, his imprisonment, 
and all his grudges against his passenger. The Henrietta 
was twenty years old; it was a great bargain. The bomb 
would not go off after all. Mr. Fogg had taken away the 
match. 

“And I shall still have the iron hull,” said the captain 
in a softer tone. 

“The iron hull and the engine. Is it agreed.^” 

“Agreed.” 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 469 

And Andrew Speedy, seizing the banknotes, counted them 
and consigned them to his pocket. 

During this colloquy. Passepartout was as white as a 
sheet, and Fix seemed on the point of having an apoplectic 
fit. Nearly twenty thousand pounds had been expended, 
and Fogg left the hull and engine to the captain, that is, 
near the whole value of the craft ! It was true, however, that 
fifty-five thousand pounds had been stolen from the Bank. 

When Andrew Speedy had pocketed the money, Mr. Fogg 
said to him, “Don’t let this astonish you, sir. You must 
know that I shall lose twenty thousand pounds, unless I ar- 
rive in London by a quarter before nine on the evening of 
the 21st of December. I missed the steamer at New York, 
and as you refused to take me to Liverpool ” 

“And I did well!” cried Andrew Speedy; “for I have 
gained at least forty thousand dollars by it!” He added, 
more sedately, “Do you know one thing. Captain ” 

“Fogg.” 

“Captain Fogg, you’ve got something of the Yankee 
about you.” 

And, having paid his passenger what he considered a 
high compliment, he was going away, when Mr. Fogg said, 
“The vessel now belongs to me.?” 

“Certainly, from the keel to the truck of the masts — all 
the wood, that is.” 

“Very well. Have the interior seats, bunks, and frames 
pulled down, and burn them.” 

It was necessary to have dry wood to keep the steam up 
to the adequate pressure, and on that day the poop, cabins, 
bunks, and the spare deck were sacrificed. On the next day, 
the 19th of December, the masts, rafts, and spars were 
burned ; the crew worked lustily, keeping up the fires. Passe- 
partout hewed, cut, and sawed away with all his might. 
There was a perfect rage for demolition. 

The railings, fittings, the greater part of the deck, and 
top sides disappeared on the 20th, and the Henrietta was 
now only a flat hulk. But on this day they sighted the Irish 
coast and Fastnet Light. By ten in the evening they were 
passinfiT Oueenstowm. Phileas Fogg had only twenty-four 


470 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

hours more in which to get to London ; that length of time 
was necessary to reach Liverpool, with all steam on. And the 
steam was about to give out altogether! 

“Sir,” said Captain Speedy, who was now deeply inter- 
ested in Mr. Fogg’s project, “I really commiserate you. 
Everything is against you. We are only opposite Queens- 
town.” 

“Ah,” said Mr. Fogg, “is that place where we see the 
lights Queenstown.^” 

“Yes.” 

“Can we enter the harbour.?” 

“Not under three hours. Only at high tide.” 

“Stay,” replied Mr. Fogg calmly, without betraying in 
his features that by a supreme inspiration he was about to 
attempt once more to conquer ill-fortune. 

Queenstown is the Irish port at which the trans-Atlantic 
steamers stop to put off the mails. These mails are carried 
to Dublin by express trains always held in readiness to 
start; from Dublin they are sent on to Liverpool by the 
most rapid boats, and thus gain twelve hours on the Atlantic 
steamers. 

Phileas Fogg counted on gaining twelve hours in the same 
way. Instead of arriving at Liverpool the next evening by 
the Henrietta, he would be there by noon, and would there- 
fore have time to reach London before a quarter before nine 
in the evening. 

The Henrietta entered Queenstown Harbour at one 
o’clock in the morning, it then being high tide ; and Pliileas 
Fogg, after being grasped heartily by the hand by Captain 
Speedy, left that gentleman on the levelled hulk of his craft, 
which was still worth half what he had sold it for. 

The party went on shore at once. Fix was greatly tempted 
to arrest Mr. Fogg on the spot; but he did not. Why.? 
What struggle was going on within him.? Had he ciianged 
his mind about “his man”.? Did he understand that he had 
made a grave mistake.? He did not, however, abandon Mr. 
Fogg. They all got upon the train, which was just ready 
to start, at half -past one; at dawn of day they were in 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 4)71 


Dublin; and they lost no time in embarking on a steamer 
which, disdaining to rise upon the waves, invariably cut 
through them. 

Phileas Fogg at last disembarked on the Liverpool quay, 
at twenty minutes before twelve, 21st December. He was 
only six hours distant from London. 

But at this moment Fix came up, put his hand upon Mr. 
Fogg’s shoulder, and, showing his warrant, said, “You are 
really Phileas Fogg.?” 

“I am.” 

“I arrest you in the Queen’s name !” 


CHAPTER XXXIV 

IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG AT LAST REACHES LONDON 

Phileas Fogg was in prison. He had been shut up in the 
Custom House, and he was to be transferred to London the 
next day. 

Passepartout, when he saw his master arrested, would 
have fallen upon Fix had he not been held back by some 
policemen. Aouda was thunderstruck at the suddenness of 
an event which she could not understand. Passepartout ex- 
plained to her how it was that the honest and courageous 
Fogg was arrested as a robber. The young woman’s heart 
revolted against so heinous a charge, and when she saw that 
she could attempt to do nothing to save her protector, she 
wept bitterly. 

As for Fix, he had arrested Mr. Fogg because it was his 
duty, whether Mr. Fogg were guilty or not. 

The thought then struck Passepartout, that he was the 
cause of this new misfortune! Had he not concealed Fix’s 
errand from his master.? When Fix revealed his true char- 
acter and purpose, why had he not told Mr. Fogg? If the 
latter had been warned, he would no doubt have given Fix 
proof of his innocence, and satisfied him of his mistake; at 
least. Fix would not have continued his journey at the ex- 
pense and on the heels of his master, only to arrest him 


472 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

the moment he set foot on English soil. Passepartout wept 
till he was blind, and felt like blowing his brains out. 

Aouda and he had remained, despite the cold, under the 
portico of the Custom House. Neither wished to leave the 
place; both were anxious to see Mr. Fogg again. 

That gentleman was really ruined, and that at the mo- 
ment when he was about to attain his end. This arrest was 
fatal. Having arrived at Liverpool at twenty minutes be- 
fore twelve on the 21st of December, he had till a quarter 
before nine that evening to reach the Reform Club, that is, 
nine hours and a quarter; the journey from Liverpool to 
London was six hours. 

If anyone, at this moment, had entered the Custom 
House, he would have found Mr. Fogg seated, motionless, 
calm, and without apparent anger, upon a wooden bench. 
He was not, it is true, resigned; but this last blow failed to 
force him into an outward betrayal of any emotion. Was 
he being devoured by one of those secret rages, all the more 
terrible because contained, and which only burst forth, with 
an irresistible force, at the last moment? No one could tell. 
There he sat, calmly waiting — for what? Did he still cher- 
ish hope? Did he still believe, now that the door of this 
prison was closed upon him, that he would succeed? 

However that may have been, Mr. Fogg carefully put his 
watch upon the table, and observed its advancing hands. 
Not a word escaped his lips, but his look was singularly set 
and stern. The situation, in any event, was a terrible one, 
and might be thus stated: if Phileas Fogg was honest he was 
ruined ; if he was a knave, he was caught. 

Did escape occur to him? Did he examine to see if there 
were any practicable outlet from his prison? Did he think 
of escaping from it? Possibly; for once he walked slowly 
around the room. But the door was locked, and the window 
heavily barred with iron rods. He sat down again, and drew 
his journal from his pocket. On the line where these words 
were written, “21st December, Saturday, Liverpool,” he 
added, “80th day, 11.40 a.m.,” and waited. 

The Custom House clock struck one. Mr. Fogg observed 
that his watch was two hours too fast. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 473 

Two hours ! Admitting that he was at this moment taking 
an express train, he could reach London and the Reform 
Club by a quarter before nine, p.m. His forehead slightly 
wrinkled. 

At thirty-three minutes past two he heard a singular 
noise outside, then a hasty opening of doors. Passepartout’s 
voice was audible, and immediately after that of Fix. 
Phileas Fogg’s eyes brightened for an instant. 

The door swung open, and he saw Passepartout, Aouda, 
and Fix, who hurried towards him. 

Fix was out of breath, and his hair was in disorder. He 
could not speak. “Sir,” he stammered, “sir — forgive me — 
a most — unfortunate resemblance — robber arrested three 
days ago — you — are free!” 

Phileas Fogg was free! He walked to the detective, looked 
him steadily in the face, and with the only rapid motion he 
had ever made in his life, or which he ever would make, 
drew back his arms, and with the precision of a machine 
knocked Fix down. 

“Well hit!” cried Passepartout, ‘‘Parhlewl that’s what 
you might call a good application of English fists!” 

Fix, who found himself on the floor, did not utter a word. 
He had only received his deserts, Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and 
Passepartout left the Custom House without delay, got 
into a cab, and in a few moments descended at the station. 

Phileas Fogg asked if there was an express train about to 
leave for London. It was forty minutes past two. The ex- 
press train had left thirty-five minutes before. 

Phileas Fogg then ordered a special train. 

There were several rapid locomotives on hand; but the 
railway arrangements did not permit the special train to 
leave until three o’clock. 

At that hour Phileas Fogg, having stimulated the engi- 
neer by the offer of a generous reward, at last set out to- 
wards London with Aouda and his faithful servant. 

It was necessary to make the journey in five hours and a 
half ; and this would have been easy on a clear road through- 
out. But there were forced delays, and when Mr. Fogg 


4)74 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

stepped from the train at the terminus, all the clocks in 
London were striking ten minutes before nine.^ 

Having made the tour of the world, he was behind-hand 
five minutes. He had lost the wager ! 


CHATTER XXXV 

IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG DOES NOT HAVE TO REPEAT HIS 
ORDERS TO PASSEPARTOUT TWICE 

T HE dwellers in Saville Row would have been surprised 
the next day, if they had been told that Phileas Fogg had 
returned home. His doors and windows were still closed, no 
appearance of change was visible. 

After leaving the station, Mr. Fogg gave Passepartout 
instructions to purchase some provisions, and quietly went 
to his domicile. 

He bore his misfortune with his habitual tranquillity. 
Ruined! And by the blundering of the detective! After 
having steadily traversed that long journey, overcome a 
hundred obstacles, braved many dangers, and still found 
time to do some good on his way, to fail near the goal by a 
sudden event which he could not have foreseen, and against 
which he was unarmed; it was terrible! But a few pounds 
were left of the large sum he had carried with him. There 
only remained of his fortune the twenty thousand pounds 
deposited at Barings, and this amount he owed to his friends 
of the Reform Club. So great had been the expense of liis 
tour that, even had he won, it would not have enriched him ; 
and it is probable that he had not sought to enrich himself, 
being a man who rather laid wagers for honour’s sake than 
for the stake proposed. But this wager totally ruined him. 

Mr. Fogg’s course, however, was fully decided upon; he 
knew what remained for him to do. 

A room in the house in Saville Row was set apart for 
Aouda, who was overwhelmed with grief at her protector’s 

somewhat remarkable eccentricity on the part of the London clocks? 
— Translator. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 475 

misfortune. From the words which Mr. Fogg dropped, she 
saw that he was meditating some serious project. 

Knowing that Englishmen governed by a fixed idea some- 
times resort to the desperate expedient of suicide, Passepar- 
tout kept a narrow watch upon his master, though he care- 
fully concealed the appearance of so doing. 

First of all, the worthy fellow had gone up to his room, 
and had extinguished the gas burner, which had been burn- 
ing for eighty days. He had found in the letter-box a bill 
from the gas company, and he thought it more than time to 
put a stop to this expense, which he had been doomed to 
bear. 

The night pa-ssed. Mr. Fogg went to bed, but did he 
sleep Aouda did not once close her eyes. Passepartout 
watched all night, like a faithful dog, at his master’s door. 

Mr. Fogg called him in the morning, and told him to get 
Aouda’s breakfast, and a cup of tea and a chop for himself. 
He desired Aouda to excuse him from breakfast and dinner, 
as his time would be absorbed all day in putting his affairs 
to rights. In the evening he would ask permission to have 
a few moment’s conversation with the young lady. 

Passepartout, having received his orders, had nothing to 
do but obey them. He looked at his imperturbable master, 
and could scarcely bring his mind to leave him. His heart 
was full, and his conscience tortured by remorse; for he 
accused himself more bitterly than ever of being the cause 
of the irretrievable disaster. Yes! if he had warned Mr. 
Fogg, and had betrayed Fix’s projects to him, his master 
would certainly not have given the detective passage to 
Liverpool, and then 

Passepartout could hold in no longer. 

‘‘My master! Mr. Fogg!” he cried, “why do you not 
curse me.f^ It was my fault that ” 

“I blame no one,” returned Phileas Fogg, with perfect 
calmness. “Go!” 

Passepartout left the room, and went to find Aouda, to 
whom he delivered his master’s message. 

“Madam,” he added, “I can do nothing myself — ^noth- 


476 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

ing! I have no influence over my master; but you, per- 
haps ” 

“What influence could I have?” replied Aouda. “Mr. 
Fogg is influenced by -no one. Has he ever understood that 
my gratitude to him is overflowing? Has he ever read my 
heart? My friend, he must not be left alone an instant! 
You say he is going to speak with me this evening?” 

“Yes, madam; probably to arrange for your protection 
and comfort in England.” 

“We shall see,” replied Aouda, becoming suddenly 
pensive. 

Throughout this day (Sunday) the house in Saville Row 
was as if uninhabited, and Phileas Fogg, for the first time 
since he had lived in that house, did not set out for his club 
when Westminster clock struck half-past eleven. 

Why should he present himself at the Reform? His 
friends no longer expected him there. As Phileas Fogg had 
not appeared in the saloon on the evening before (Saturday, 
the 21st of December, at a quarter before nine), he had lost 
his wager. It was not even necessary that he should go to his 
bankers for the twenty thousand pounds ; for his antagonists 
already had his cheque in their hands, and they had only 
to fill it out and send it to the Barings to have the amount 
transferred to their credit. 

Mr. Fogg, therefore, had no reason for going out, and so 
he remained at home. He shut himself up in his room, and 
busied himself putting his affairs in order. Passepartout 
continually ascended and descended the stairs. The hours 
were long for him. He listened at his master’s door, and 
looked through the keyhole, as if he had a perfect right so to 
do, and as if he feared that something terrible might happen 
at any moment. Sometimes he thought of Fix, but no longer 
in anger. Fix, like all the world, had been mistaken in 
Phileas Fogg, and had only done his duty in tracking and 

arresting him; while he. Passepartout This thought 

haunted him, and he never ceased cursing his miserable 
folly. 

Finding himself too wretched to remain alone, he knocked 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 477 

at Aouda’s door, went into her room, seated himself, with- 
out speaking, in a corner, and looked ruefully at the young 
woman. Aouda was still pensive. 

About half-past seven in the evening Mr. Fogg sent to 
know if Aouda would receive him, and in a few moments he 
found himself alone with her. 

Phileas Fogg took a chair, and sat down near the fire- 
place, opposite Aouda. No emotion was visible on his face. 
Fogg returned was exactly the Fogg who had gone away; 
there was the same calm, the same impassibility. 

He sat several minutes without speaking; then, bending 
his eyes on Aouda, “Madam,” said he, “will you pardon 
me for bringing you to England.^” 

“I, Mr. Fogg!” replied Aouda, checking the pulsations 
of her heart. 

“Please let me finish,” returned Mr. Fogg. “When I de- 
cided to bring you far away from the country which was so 
unsafe for you, I was rich, and counted on putting a por- 
tion of my fortune at your disposal ; then your existence 
would have been free and happy. But now I am ruined.” 

“I know it, Mr. Fogg,” replied Aouda; “and I ask you 
in my turn, will you forgive me for having followed you, 
and — who knows — for having, perhaps, delayed you, and 
thus contributed to your ruin.^” 

“Madam, you could not remain in India, and your safety 
could only be assured by bringing you to such a distance 
that your persecutors could not take you.” 

“So, Mr. Fogg,” resumed Aouda, “not content with 
rescuing me from a terrible death, you thought yourself 
bound to secure my comfort in a foreign land.^” 

“Yes, madam; but circumstances have been against me. 
Still, I beg to place the little I have left at your service.” 

“But what will become of you, Mr. Fogg.?^” 

“As for me, madam,” replied the gentleman, coldly, “I 
have need of nothing.” 

“But how do you look upon the fate, sir, which awaits 
you.?” 

“As I am in the habit of doing.” 


478 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

‘‘At least,” said Aouda, “want should not overtake a man 
like you. Your friends ” 

“I have no friends, madam.” 

“Your relatives ” 

“I have no longer any relatives.” 

“I pity you, then, Mr. Fogg, for solitude is a sad thing, 
with no heart to which to confide your griefs. They say, 
though, that misery itself, shared by two sympathetic souls, 
may be borne with patience.” 

“They say so, madam.” 

“Mr. Fogg,” said Aouda, rising and seizing his hand, 
“do you wish at once a kinswoman and friend.^ Will you 
have me for your wife.?” 

Mr. Fogg, at this, rose in his turn. There was an un- 
wonted light in his eyes, and a slight trembling of his lips. 
Aouda looked into his face. The sincerity, rectitude, firm- 
ness, and sweetness of this soft glance of a noble woman, 
who could dare all to save him to whom she owed all, at first 
astonished, then penetrated him. He shut his eyes for an in- 
stant, as if to avoid her look. When he opened them again, 
“I love you !” he said, simply. “Yes, by all that is holiest, I 
love you, and I am entirely yours !” 

“Ah!” cried Aouda, pressing his hand to her heart. 

Passepartout was summoned and appeared immediately. 
Mr. Fogg still held Aouda’s hand in his own; Passepartout 
understood, and his big, round face became as radiant as 
the tropical sun at its zenith. 

Mr. Fogg asked him if it was not too late to notify the 
Reverend Samuel Wilson, of Marylebone parish, that 
evening. 

Passepartout smiled his most genial smile, and said, 
“Never too late.” 

It was five minutes past eight. 

“Will it be for to-morrow, Monday?” 

“For to-morrow, Monday,” said Mr. Fogg, turning to 
Aouda. 

“Yes ; for to-morrow, Monday,” she replied. 

Passepartout hurried off as fast as his legs could carry 
him. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 4}79 


CHAPTER XXXVI 

IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGg’s NAME IS ONCE MORE AT A 
PREMIUM ON ’change 

It IS time to relate what a change took place in English 
public opinion when it transpired that the real bankrobber, 
a certain James Strand, had been arrested, on the 17th day 
of December, at Edinburgh. Three days before, Phileas 
Fogg had been a criminal, who was being desperately fol- 
lowed up by the police; now he was an honourable gentle- 
man, mathematically pursuing his eccentric journey round 
the world. 

The papers resumed their discussion about the wager; 
all those who had laid bets, for or against him, revived their 
interest, as if by magic; the ‘‘Phileas Fogg bonds” again 
became negotiable, and many new wagers were made. Phileas 
Fogg’s name was once more at a premium on ’Change. 

His five friends of the Reform Club passed these three 
days in a state of feverish suspense. Would Phileas Fogg, 
whom they had forgotten, reappear before their eyes ! Where 
was he at this moment? The 17th of December, the day of 
James Strand’s arrest, was the seventy-sixth since Phileas 
Fogg’s departure, and no news of him had been received. 
Was he dead? Had he abandoned the effort, or was he con- 
tinuing his journey along the route agreed upon? And 
would he appear on Saturday, the ^Ist of December, at a 
quarter before nine in the evening, on the threshold of the 
Reform Club saloon? 

The anxiety in which, for three days, London society ex- 
isted, cannot be described. Telegrams were sent to America 
and Asia for news of Phileas Fogg. Messengers were des- 
patched to the house in Saville Row morning and evening. 
No news. The police were ignorant what had become of the 
detective, Fix, who had so unfortunately followed up a false 
scent. Bets increased, nevertheless, in number and value. 
Phileas Fogg, like a racehorse, was drawing near his last 
turning-point. The bonds were quoted, no longer at a hun- 


480 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

dred below par, but at twenty, at ten, and at five; and 
paralytic old Lord Albemarle bet even in his favour. 

A great crowd was collected in Pall Mall and the neigh- 
bouring streets on Saturday evening ; it seemed like a multi- 
tude of brokers permanently established around the Reform 
Club. Circulation was impeded, and everywhere disputes, 
discussions, and financial transactions were going on. The 
police had great difficulty in keeping back the crowd, and 
as the hour when Phileas Fogg was due approached, the 
excitement rose to its highest pitch. 

The five antagonists of Phileas Fogg had met in the 
great saloon of the club. John Sullivan and Samuel Fallen- 
tin, the bankers, Andrew Stuart, the engineer, Gauthier 
Ralph, the director of the Bank of England, and Thomas 
Flanagan, the brewer, one and all waited anxiously. 

When the clock indicated twenty minutes past eight, An- 
drew Stuart got up, saying, ‘‘Gentlemen, in twenty minutes 
the time agreed upon between Mr. Fogg and ourselves will 
have expired.” 

“What time did the last train arrive from Liverpool.'^” 
asked Thomas Flanagan. 

“At twenty-three minutes past seven,” replied Gauthier 
Ralph; “and the next does not arrive till ten minutes after 
twelve.” 

“Well, gentlemen,” resumed Andrew Stuart, “if Phileas 
Fogg had come in the 7.23 train, he would have got here 
by this time. We can, therefore, regard the bet as won.” 

“Wait; don’t let us be too hasty,” replied Samuel Fallen- 
tin. “You know that Mr. Fogg is very eccentric. His punc- 
tuality is well kno^Ti ; he never arrives too soon, or too late ; 
and I should not be surprised if he appeared before us at 
the last minute.” 

“Why,” said Andrew Stuart nervously, “if I should see 
him, I should not believe it was he.” 

“The fact is,” resumed Thomas Flanagan, “Mr. Fogg’s 
project was absurdly foolish. Whatever his punctuality, 
he could not prevent the delays which were certain to occur ; 
and a delay of only two or three days would be fatal to 
his tour.” 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 481 

“Observe, too,” added John Sullivan, “that we have re- 
ceived no intelligence from him, though there are telegraphic 
lines all along his route.” 

“He has lost, gentleman,” said Andrew Stuart, — “he has 
a hundred times lost! You know, besides, that the China — 
the only steamer he could have taken from New York to get 
here in time — arrived yesterday. I have seen a list of the 
passengers, and the name of Phileas Fogg is not among 
them. Even if we admit that fortune has favoured him, he 
can scarcely have reached America. I think he will be at 
least twenty days behind-hand, and that Lord Albemarle 
will lose a cool five thousand.” 

“It is clear,” replied Gauthier Ralph ; “and we have 
nothing to do but to present Mr. Fogg’s cheque at Barings 
to-morrow.” 

At this moment, the hands of the club clock pointed to 
twenty minutes to nine. 

“FAe minutes more,” said Andrew Stuart. 

The five gentlemen looked at each other. Their anxiety 
was becoming intense; but, not wishing to betray it, they 
readily assented to Mr. Fallentin’s proposal of a rubber. 

“I wouldn’t give up my four thousand of the bet,” said 
Andrew Stuart, as he took his seat, “for three thousand nine 
hundred and ninety-nine.” 

The clock indicated eighteen minutes to nine. 

The players took up their cards, but could not keep their 
eyes off the clock. Certainly, however secure they felt, min- 
utes had never seemed so long to them ! 

“Seventeen minutes to nine,” said Thomas Flanagan, as 
he cut the cards which Ralph handed to him. 

Then there was a moment of silence. The great saloon was 
perfectly quiet ; but the murmurs of the crowd outside were 
heard, with now and then a shrill cry. The pendulum beat 
the seconds, which each player eagerly counted, as he 
listened, with mathematical regularity. 

“Sixteen minutes to nine!” said John Sullivan, in a voice 
which betrayed his emotion. 

One minute more, and the wager would be won. Andrew 


482 AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 

Stuart and his partners suspended their game. They left 
their cards, and counted the seconds. 

At the fortieth second, nothing. At the fiftieth, still 
nothing. 

At the fifty-fifth, a loud cry was heard in the street, fol- 
lowed by applause, hurrahs, and some fierce growls. 

The players rose from their seats. 

At the fifty-seventh second the door of the saloon opened ; 
and the pendulum had not beat the sixtieth second when 
Phileas Fogg appeared, followed by an excited crowd who 
had forced their way through the club doors, and in his 
calm voice, said, “Here I am, gentlemen !” 


CHAPTER XXXVII 

IN WHICH IT IS SHOWN THAT PHILEAS FOGG GAINED 
NOTHING BY HIS TOUR AROUND THE WORLD, UNLESS 
IT WERE HAPPINESS 

Y.S ; Phileas Fogg in person. 

The reader will remember that at five minutes past eight 
in the evening — about five and twenty hours after the ar- 
rival of the travellers in London — Passepartout had been 
sent by his master to engage the services of the Reverend 
Samuel Wilson in a certain marriage ceremony, which was 
to take place the next day. 

Passepartout went on his errand enchanted. He soon 
reached the clergyman’s house, but found him not at home. 
Passepartout waited a good twenty minutes, and when he 
left the reverend gentleman, it was thirty-five minutes past 
eight. But in what a state he was ! With his hair in disorder, 
and without his hat, he ran along the street as never man 
was seen to run before, overturning passers-by, rushing over 
the sidewalk like a waterspout. 

In three minutes he was in Saville Row again, and stag- 
gered back into Mr. Fogg’s room. 

He could not speak. 

“What is the matter?” asked Mr. Fogg. 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 48S 

“My master !” gasped Passepartout — “marriage — im- 
possible ” 

“Impossible?” 

“Impossible — for to-morrow.” 

“Why so?” 

“Because to-morrow — is Sunday!” 

“Monday,” replied Mr. Fogg. 

“No — to-day — is Saturday.” 

“Saturday? Impossible!” 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” cried Passepartout. “You have made 
a mistake of one day! We arrived twenty-four hours ahead 
of time; but there are only ten minutes left!” 

Passepartout had seized his master by the collar, and was 
dragging him along with irresistible force. 

Phileas Fogg, thus kidnapped, without having time to 
think, left his house, jumped into a cab, promised a hundred 
pounds to the cabman, and, having run over two dogs and 
overturned five carriages, reached the Reform Club. 

The clock indicated a quarter before nine when he ap- 
peared in the great saloon. 

Phileas Fogg had accomplished the journey round the 
world in eighty days! 

Phileas Fogg had won his wager of twenty thousand 
pounds ! 

How was it that a man so exact and fastidious could have 
made this error of a day? How came he to think that he had 
arrived in London on Saturday, the twenty-first day of 
December, when it was really Friday, the twentieth, the 
seventy-ninth day only from his departure? 

The cause of the error is very simple. 

Phileas Fogg had, without suspecting it, gained one day 
on his journey, and this merely because he had travelled 
constantly eastwards he would, on the contrary, have lost 
a day had he gone in the opposite direction, that is, west- 
ward. 

In journeying eastward he had gone towards the sun, and 
the days therefore diminished for him as many times four 
minutes as he crossed degrees in this direction. There are 
three hundred and sixty degrees on the circumference of 


4)84! AROUND THE WORED IN EIGHTY DAYS 

the earth ; and these three hundred and sixty degrees, multi- 
plied by four minutes, gives precisely twenty-four hours — 
that is, the day unconsciously gained. In other words, while 
Phileas Fogg, going eastward, saw the sun pass the meridian 
eighty his friends in London only saw it pa|^ the 

meridian seventy-nine times. This is why they awaited 1dm 
at the Reform Club on Saturday, and not Sunday, as Mr. 
Fogg thought. 

And Passepartout’s famous family watch, which had al- 
ways kept London time, would have betrayed this fact, if it 
had marked the days as well as the hours and the minutes ! 

Phileas Fogg, then, had won the twenty thousand 
pounds; but, as he had spent nearly nineteen thousand on 
the way, the pecuniary gain was small. His object was, how- 
ever, to be victorious, and not to win money. He divided the 
one thousand pounds that remained between Passepartout 
and the unfortunate Fix, against whom he cherished no 
grudge. He deducted, however, from Passepartout’s share 
the cost of the gas which had burned in his room for nine- 
teen hundred and twenty hours, for the sake of regularity. 

That evening, Mr. Fogg, as tranquil and phlegmatic as 
ever, said to Aouda : “Is our marriage still agreeable to 
you.^” 

“Mr. Fogg,” replied she, “it is for me to ask that ques- 
tion. You were ruined, but now you are rich again.” 

“Pardon me, madam; my fortune belongs to you. If you 
had not suggested our marriage, my servant would not have 
gone to the Reverend Samuel Wilson’s, I should not have 
been apprised of my error, and ” 

“Dear Mr. Fogg!” said the young woman. 

“Dear Aouda!” replied Phileas Fogg. 

It need not be said that the marriage took place forty- 
eight hours after, and that Passepartout, glowing and 
dazzling, gave the bride away. Had he not saved her, and 
was he not entitled to this honour? 

The next day, as soon as it was light. Passepartout 
rapped vigorously at his master’s door. Mr. Fogg opened 
it, and asked, “What’s the matter. Passepartout?” 


AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS 4)85 

“What is it, sir? Why, I’ve just this instant found 

out ” 

‘ “What?” 

“That we might have mavie the tour of the world in only 
seventy-eight days.” 

“INo doubt,” returned Mr. Fogg, “by not crossing India. 
But if I had not crossed India, I should not have saved 
Aouda ; she would not have been my wife, and ” 

Mr. Fogg quietly shut tlie door. 

Phileas Fogg had won his wager, and had made his 
journey around the world in eighty days. To do this he 
had employed every means of conveyance — steamers, rail- 
ways, carriages, yachts, trading-vessels, sledges, elephants. 
The eccentric gentleman had throughout displayed all his 
marvellous qualities of coolness and exactitude. But what 
then? What had he really gained by all this trouble? What 
had he brought back from this long and weary journey? 

Nothing, say you? Perhaps so; nothing but a charming 
woman, who, strange as it may appear, made him the hap- 
piest of men! 

Truly, would you not for less than that make the tour 
around the world? 








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THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 




THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


CHAPTER I 

THE “dolphin” 

r HE Clyde was the first river whose waters were lashed 
into foam by a steam-boat. It was in 1812 when the steamer 
called the Comet ran between Glasgow and Greenock, at 
the speed of six miles an hour. Since that time more than 
a million of steamers or packet-boats have plied this Scotch 
river, and the inhabitants of Glasgow must be as familiar 
as any people with the wonders of steam navigation. 

However, on the 3rd of December, 1862, an immense 
crowd, composed of shipowners, merchants, manufacturers, 
workmen, sailors, women, and children, thronged the muddy 
streets of Glasgow, all going in the direction of Kelvin 
Dock, the large shipbuilding premises belonging to Messrs. 
Tod & MacGregor. This last name especially proves that 
the descendants of the famous Highlanders have become 
manufacturers, and that they have made workmen of all the 
vassals of the old clan chieftains. 

Kelvin Dock is situated a few minutes’ walk from the 
town, on the right bank of the Clyde. Soon the immense 
timber-yards were thronged with spectators; not a part of 
the quay, not a wall of the wharf, not a factory roof showed 
an unoccupied place ; the river itself was covered with craft 
of all descriptions, and the heights of Govan, on the left 
bank, swarmed with spectators. 

There was, however, nothing extraordinary in the event 
about to take place; it was nothing but the launching of a 
ship, and this was an everyday affair with the people of 
Glasgow. Had the Dolphin^ then — for that was the name of 
the ship built by Messrs. Tod & MacGregor — some special 
peculiarity.? To tell the truth, it had none. 

It was a large ship, about 1,500 tons, in which everything 
combined to obtain superior speed. Her engines, of 500 
horse-power, were from the workshops of Lancefield Forge; 

489 


490 THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 

they worked two screws, one on either side the stern-post, 
completely independent of each other. As for the depth of 
water the Dolphin would draw, it must be very inconsider- 
able; connoisseurs were not deceived, and they concluded 
rightly that this ship was destined for shallow straits. But 
all these particulars could not in any way justify the eager- 
ness of the people: taken altogether, the Dolphin was noth- 
ing more or less than an ordinary ship. Would her launching 
present some mechanical difficulty to be overcome.^ Not any 
more than usual. The Clyde had received many a ship of 
heavier tonnage, and the launching of the Dolphin would 
take place in the usual manner. 

In fact, when the water was calm, the moment the ebb- 
tide set in, the workmen began to operate. Their mallets 
kept perfect time falling on the wedges meant to raise the 
ship’s keel: soon a shudder ran through the whole of her 
massive structure ; although she had only been slightly 
raised, one could see that she shook, and then gradually 
began to glide down the well greased wedges, and in a few 
moments she plunged into the Clyde. Her stern struck the 
muddy bed of the river, then she raised herself on the top 
of a gigantic wave, and, carried forward by her start, would 
have been dashed against the quay of the Govan timber- 
yards, if her anchors had not restrained her. 

The launch had been perfectly successful, the Dolphin 
swayed quietly on the waters of the Clyde, all the specta- 
tors clapped their hands when she took possession of her 
natural element, and loud hurrahs arose from either bank. 

But wherefore these cries and this applause Un- 
doubtedly the most eager of the spectators would have been 
at a loss to explain the reason of his enthusiasm. What was 
the cause, then, of the lively interest excited by this ship.^ 
Simply the mystery which shrouded her destination; it 
was not known to what kind of commerce she was to be 
appropriated, and in questioning different groups the 
diversity of opinion on this important subject was indeed 
astonishing. 

However, the best informed, at least those who pretended 
to be so, agreed in saying that the steamer was going to take 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 491 

part in the terrible war which was then ravaging the United 
States of America, but more than this they did not know, 
and whether the Dolphin was a privateer, a transport ship, 
or an addition to the Federal marine was what no one could 
tell. 

“Hurrah !” cried one, affirming that the Dolphin had been 
built for the Southern States. 

“Hip ! hip ! hip !” cried another, swearing that never had 
a faster boat crossed to the American coasts. 

Thus its desination was unknown, and in order to obtain 
any reliable information one must be an intimate friend, or, 
at any rate, an acquaintance of Vincent Playfair & Co., of 
Glasgow. 

A rich, powerful, intelligent house of business was that 
of Vincent Playfair & Co., in a social sense, an old and 
honourable family, descended from those tobacco lords who 
built the finest quarters of the town. These clever merchants, 
by an act of the Union, had founded the first Glasgow ware- 
house for dealing in tobacco from Virginia and Maryland. 
Immense fortunes were realised; mills and foundries sprang 
up in all parts, and in a few years the prosperity of the city 
attained its height. 

The house of Playfair remained faithful to the enter- 
prising spirit of its ancestors, it entered into the most dar- 
ing schemes, and maintained the honour of English 
commerce. The principal, Vincent Playfair, a man of fifty, 
with a temperament essentially practical and decided, al- 
though somewhat daring, was a genuine shipowner. Nothing 
affected him beyond commercial questions, not even the 
political side of the transactions, otherwise he was a per- 
fectly loyal and honest man. 

However, he could not lay claim to the idea of building 
and fitting up the Dolphin; she belonged to his nephew, 
James Playfair, a fine young man of thirty, the boldest 
skipper of the British merchant marine. 

It was one day at the Tontine coffee-room under the 
arcades of the town hall, that James Playfair, after having 
impatiently scanned the American journal, disclosed to his 
uncle an adventurous scheme. 


492 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


‘‘Uncle Vincent,” said he, coming to the point at once, 
“there are two millions of pounds to be gained in less than 
a month.” 

“And what to risk?” asked Uncle Vincent. 

“A ship and a cargo.” 

“Nothing else?” 

“Nothing, except the crew and the captain, and that 
does not reckon for much.” 

“Let us see,” said Uncle Vincent. 

“It is all seen,” replied James Playfair. “You have read 
the Tribune, the New York Herald, The Times, the Rich- 
mond Inquirer, the American Review?’^ 

“Scores of times, nephew.” 

“You believe, like me, that the war of the United States 
will last a long time still?” 

“A very long time.” 

“You know how much this struggle will affect the inter- 
ests of England, and especially those of Glasgow?” 

“And more especially still the house of Playfair & Co.,” 
rephed Uncle Vincent. 

“Theirs especially,” added the young Captain. 

“I worry myself about it every day, James, and I cannot 
think without terror of the commercial disasters which this 
war may produce; not but that the house of Playfair is 
firmly established, nephew; at the same time it has cor- 
respondents which may fail. Ah! those Americans, slave- 
holders or Abolitionists, I have no faith in them !” 

If Vincent Playfair was wrong in thus speaking with 
respect to the great principles of humanity, always and 
everywhere superior to personal interests, he was, never- 
theless, right from a commercial point of view. The most 
important material was failing at Glasgow, the cotton 
famine became every day more threatening, thousands of 
workmen were reduced to living upon public charity. 
Glasgow possessed 25,000 looms, by which 625,000 yards 
of cotton were spun daily; that is to say, fifty millions of 
pounds yearly. From these numbers it may be guessed what 
disturbances were caused in the commercial part of the town 
when the raw material failed altogether. Failures were 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 493 

hourly taking place, the manufactories were closed, and the 
workmen were dying of starvation. 

It was the sight of this great misery which had put the 
idea of his bold enterprise into James Playfair’s head. 

‘‘I will go for cotton, and will get it, cost what it may.” 

But, as he also was a merchant as well as his uncle 
Vincent, he resolved to carry out his plan by way of ex- 
change, and to make his proposition under the guise of a 
commercial enterprise. 

“Uncle Vincent,” said he, “this is my idea.” 

“Well, James 

“It is simply this: we will have a ship built of superior 
sailing qualities and great bulk.” 

“That is quite possible.” 

“We will load her with ammunition of war, provisions, 
and clothes.” 

“Just so.” 

“I will take the command of this steamer, I will defy 
all the ships of the Federal marine for speed, and I will 
run the blockade of one of the southern ports.” 

“You must make a good bargain for your cargo with 
the Confederates, who will be in need of it,” said his uncle. 

“And I shall return laden with cotton.” 

“Which they will give you for nothing.” 

“As you say. Uncle. Will it answer 

“It will; but shall you be able to get there .^” 

“I shall, if I have a good ship.” 

“One can be made on purpose. But the crew.?” 

“Oh, I will find them. I do not want many men; enough 
to work with, that is all. It is not a question of fighting with 
the Federals, but distancing them.” 

“They shall be distanced,” said Uncle Vincent, in a 
peremptory tone; “but now, tell me, James, to what port 
of the American coast do you think of going.?” 

“Up to now. Uncle, ships have run the blockade of New 
Orleans, Wilmington, and Savannah, but I think of going 
straight to Charleston ; no English boat has yet been able to 
pentrate into the harbour, except the Bermuda. I will do 
like her, and, if my ship draws but very little water, I shall 


494 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


be able to go where the Federalists will not be able to 
follow.” 

‘‘The fact is,” said Uncle Vincent, “Charleston is over- 
whelmed with cotton; they are even burning it to get rid 
of it.” 

“Yes,” replied James; “besides, the town is almost in- 
vested; Beauregard is running short of provisions, and he 
will pay me a golden price for my cargo !” 

“Well, nephew, and when will you start .^” 

“In six months; I must have the long winter nights to 
aid me.” 

“It shall be as you wish, nephew.” 

“It is settled, then. Uncle.?” 

“Settled!” 

“Shall it be kept quiet.?” 

“Yes; better so.” 

And this is how it was that five months later the steamer 
Dolphin was launched from the Kelvin Dock timber-yards, 
and no one knew her real destination. 


CHAPTER II 

GETTING UNDER SAIL 

T HE Dolphin was rapidly equipped, her rigging was 
ready, and there was nothing to do but fit her up. She car- 
ried three schooner-masts, an almost useless luxury ; in fact, 
the Dolphin did not rely on the wind to escape the Federal- 
ists, but rather on her powerful engines. 

Towards the end of December a trial of the steamer was 
made in the gulf of the Clyde. Which was the more satisfied, 
builder or captain, it is impossible to say. The new steamer 
shot along wonderfully, and the patent log showed a speed 
of seventeen miles an hour, a speed which as yet no English, 
French, or American boat had ever obtained. The Dolphm 
would certainly have gained by several lengths in a sailing 
match with the fastest opponent. 

The loading was begun on the ^5th of December, the 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


495 


steamer having ranged along the steamboat-quay a little 
below Glasgow Bridge, the last which stretches across the 
Clyde before its mouth. Here the wharfs were heaped with 
a heavy cargo of clothes, ammunition, and provisions which 
were rapidly carried to the hold of the Dolphin. The nature 
of this cargo betrayed the mysterious destination of the 
ship, and the house of Playfair could no longer keep it 
secret; besides, the Dolphin must not be long before she 
started. No American cruiser had been signalled in English 
waters ; and, then, when the question of getting the crew 
came, how was it possible to keep silent any longer.^ They 
could not embark them, even, without informing the men 
whither they were bound, for, after all, it was a matter of 
life and death, and when one risks one’s life, at least it is 
satisfactory to know how and wherefore. 

However, this prospect hindered no one; the pay was 
good, and everyone had a share in the speculation, so that 
a great number of the finest sailors soon presented them- 
selves. James Playfair was only embarrassed which to choose, 
but he chose well, and in twenty-four hours his muster-roll 
bore the names of thirty sailors who would have done honour 
to her Majesty’s yacht. 

The departure was settled for the 3rd of January; on 
the 31st of December the Dolphin was ready, her hold full 
of ammunition and provisions, and nothing was keeping 
her now. 

The skipper went on board on the 2nd of January, and 
was giving a last look round his ship with a captain’s eye, 
when a man presented himself at the fore part of the Dol- 
phin, and asked to speak with the Captain. One of the sailors, 
led him on to the poop. 

He was a strong, hearty-looking fellow, with broad 
shoulders and ruddy face, the simple expression of which 
ill-concealed a depth of wit and mirth. He did not seem 
to be accustomed to a seafaring life, and looked about him 
with the air of a man little used to being on board a ship ; 
however, he assumed the manner of a Jack-tar, looking up 
at the rigging of the Dolphin, and waddling in true sailor 
fashic 2 i 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


m 

When he had reached the Captain, he looked fixedly at 
him, and said, “Captain James Playfair?” 

“The same,” replied the skipper. “What do you want 
with me?” 

“To join your ship.” 

“There is no room ; the crew is already complete.” 

“Oh, one man, more or less, will not be in the way; quite 
the contrary.” 

“You think so?” said James Playfair, giving a sidelong 
glance at his questioner. 

“I am sure of it,” replied the sailor. 

“But who are you?” asked the Captain. 

“A rough sailor, with two strong arms, which, I can tell 
you, are not to be despised on board a ship, and which 
I now have the honour of putting at your service.” 

“But there are other ships besides the Dolphin, and other 
captains besides James Playfair. Why do you come here?” 

“Because it is on board the Dolphin that I wish to serve, 
and under the orders of Captain James Playfair.” 

“I do not want you.” 

“There is always need of a strong man, and if to prove 
my strength you will try me with three or four of the 
strongest fellows of your crew, I am ready.” 

“That will do,” replied James Playfair. “And what is 
your name?” 

“Crockston, at your service.” 

The Captain made a few steps backwards in order to get 
a better view of the giant who presented himself in this odd 
fashion. The height, the build, and the look of the sailor 
did not deny his pretensions to strength. 

“Where have you sailed?” asked Playfair of him. 

“A little everywhere.” 

“And do you know where the Dolphin is bound for?” 

“Yes ; and that is what tempts me.” 

“Ah, well ! I have no mind to let a fellow of your stamp 
escape me. Go and find the first mate, and get him to enrol 
you.” 

Having said this, the Captain expected to see the man 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 497 

turn on his heels and run to the bows, but he was mistaken. 
Crockston did not stir. 

‘Well! did you hear me?” asked the Captain. 

“Yes, but it is not all,” replied the sailor. “I have some- 
thing else to ask you.” 

“Ah! You are wasting my time,” replied James, sharply; 
“I have not a moment to lose in talking.” 

“I shall not keep you long,” replied Crockston ; “two 
words more and that is all; I was going to tell you that I 
have a nephew.” 

“He has a fine uncle, then,” interrupted James Playfair. 

“Hah! Hah!” laughed Crockston. 

“Have you finished?” asked the Captain, very impa- 
tiently. 

“Well, this is what I have to say, when one takes the 
uncle, the nephew comes into the bargain.” 

“Ah! indeed!” 

“Yes, that is the custom, the one does not go without 
the other.” 

“And what is this nephew of yours?” 

“A lad of fifteen whom I am going to train to the sea; 
he is willing to learn, and will make a fine sailor some day.” 

“How now. Master Crockston,” cried James Playfair; 
“do you think the Dolphin is a training-school for cabin- 
boys ?” 

“Don’t let us speak ill of cabin-boys: there was one of 
them who became Admiral Nelson, and another Admiral 
Franklin.” 

“Upon my honour, friend,” replied James Playfair, “you 
have a way of speaking which I like; bring your nephew, 
but if I don’t find the uncle the hearty fellow he pretends to 
be, he will have some business with me. Go, and be back in 
an hour.” 

Crockston did not want to be told twice; he bowed awk- 
wardly to the Captain of the Dolphin^ and went on to the 
quay. An hour afterwards he came on board with his 
nephew, a boy of fourteen or fifteen, rather delicate and 
weakly looking, with a timid and astonished air, which 
showed that he did not possess his uncle’s self-possession and 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


498 

vigorous corporeal qualities. Crocks ton was even obliged to 
encourage him by such words as these : 

‘‘Come,” said he, “don’t be frightened, they are not go- 
ing to eat us, besides, there is yet time to return.” 

“No, no,” replied the young man, “and may God protect 
us !” 

The same day the sailor Crockston and his nephew were 
inscribed in the muster-roll of the Dolphin. 

The next morning, at five o’clock, the fires of the steamer 
were well fed, the deck trembled under the vibrations of 
the boiler, and the steam rushed hissing through the escape- 
pipes. The hour of departure had arrived. 

A considerable crowd, in spite of the early hour, flocked 
on the quays and on Glasgow Bridge; they had come to 
salute the bold steamer for the last time. Vincent Playfair 
was there to say good-bye to Captain James, but he con- 
ducted himself on this occasion like a Roman of the good old 
times. His was a heroic countenance, and the two loud kisses 
with which he gratified his nephew were the indication of a 
strong mind. 

“Go, James,” said he to the young Captain, “go quickly, 
and come back quicker still; above all, don’t abuse your 
position. Sell at a good price, make a good bargain, and you 
will have your uncle’s esteem.” 

On this recommendation, borrowed from the manual of 
the perfect merchant, the uncle and nephew separated, and 
all the visitors left the boat. 

At this moment Crockston and John Stiggs stood to- 
gether on the forecastle, while the former remarked to his 
nephew, “Tliis is well, this is well ; before two o’clock we shall 
be at sea, and I have a good opinion of a voyage which 
begins like this.” 

For reply the novice pressed Crockston’s hand. 

James Playfair then gave the orders for departure. 

“Have we pressure on.?” he asked of his mate. 

“Yes, Captain,” replied Mr. Mathew. 

“Well, then, weigh anchor.” 

This was immediately done, and the screws began to 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 499 

move. The Dolphin trembled, passed between the ships in 
the port, and soon disappeared from the sight of the people, 
who shouted their last hurrahs. 

The descent of the Clyde was easily accomplished, one 
might almost say that this river had been made by the hand 
of man, and even by the hand of a master. For sixty years, 
thanks to the dredges and constant dragging, it has gained 
fifteen feet in depth, and its breadth has been tripled be- 
tween the quays and the town. Soon the forests of masts and 
chimneys were lost in the smoke and fog; the noise of the 
foundry hammers and the hatchets of the timber-yards 
grew fainter in the distance. After the village of Partick 
had been passed the factories gave way to country houses 
and villas. The Dolphin, slackening her speed, sailed be- 
tween the dykes which carry the river above the shores, and 
often through a very narrow channel, which, however, is 
only a small inconvenience for a navigable river, for, after 
all, depth is of more importance than width. The steamer, 
guided by one of those excellent pilots from the Irish sea, 
passed without hesitation between floating buoys, stone 
columns, and biggings, surmounted with lighthouses, which 
mark the entrance to the channel. Beyond the town of Ren- 
frew, at the foot of Kilpatrick hills, the Clyde grew wider. 
Then came Bouling Bay, at the end of which opens the 
mouth of the canal which joints Edinburgh to Glasgow. 
Lastly, at the height of four hundred feet from the ground, 
was seen the outline of Dumbarton Castle, almost in- 
discernible through the mists, and soon the harbour-boats of 
Glasgow were rocked on the waves which the Dolphin caused. 
Some miles farther on Greenock, the birthplace of James 
Watt, was passed: the Dolphin now found herself at the 
mouth of the Clyde, and at the entrance of the gulf by which 
it empties its waters into the Northern Ocean. Here the first 
undulations of the sea were felt, and the steamer ranged 
along the picturesque coast of the Isle of Arran. At last the 
promontory of Cantyre, which runs out into the channel, 
was doubled ; the Isle of Rattelin was hailed, the pilot re- 
turned by a shore-boat to his cutter, which was cruising in 


500 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


the open sea; the Dolphin, returning to her Captain’s au- 
thority, took a less frequented route round the north of 
Ireland, and soon, having lost sight of the last European 
land, found herself in the open ocean. 


CHAPTER III 

THINGS ARE NOT WHAT THEY SEEM 

T HE Dolphm had a good crew, not fighting men, or board- 
ing sailors, but good working men, and that was all she 
wanted. These brave, determined fellows were all, more or 
less, merchants; they sought a fortune rather than glory; 
they had no flag to display, no colours to defend with cannon ; 
in fact, all the artillery on board consisted of two small 
swivel signal-guns. 

The Dolphin shot bravely across the water, and fulfilled 
the utmost expectations of both builder and captain. Soon 
she passed the limit of British seas; there was not a ship 
in sight ; the great ocean route was free ; besides, no ship of 
the Federal marine would have a right to attack her be- 
neath the English flag. Followed she might be, and pre- 
vented from forcing the blockade, and precisely for this 
reason had James Playfair sacrificed everything to the speed 
of his ship, in order not to be pursued. 

Howbeit a careful watch was kept on board, and, in spite 
of the extreme cold, a man was always in the rigging ready 
to signal the smallest sail- that appeared on the horizon. 
When evening came. Captain James gave the most precise 
orders to Mr. Mathew. 

“Don’t leave the man on watch too long in the rigging; 
the cold may seize him, and in that case it is impossible to 
keep a good look-out ; change your men often.” 

“I understand. Captain,” replied Mr. Mathew. 

“Try Crockston for that work; the fellow pretends to 
have excellent sight ; it must be put to trial ; put him on the 
morning watch, he will have the morning mists to see 
through. If anything particular happens call me.” 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 501 

This said, James Playfair went to his cabin. Mr. Mathew 
called Crockston, and told him the Captain’s orders. 

“To-morrow, at six o’clock,” said he, “you are to relieve 
watch of the main masthead.” 

For reply, Crockston gave a decided grunt, but Mr. 
Mathew had hardly turned his back when the sailor mut- 
tered some incomprehensible words, and then cried: 

“What on earth did he say about the mainmast.?” 

At this moment his nephew, John Stiggs, joined him 
on the forecastle. 

“Well, my good Crockston,” said he. 

“It’s all right, all right,” said the seaman, with a forced 
smile; “there is only one thing, this wretched boat shakes 
herself like a dog coming out of the water, and it makes my 
head confused.” 

“Dear Crockston, and it is for my sake.” 

“For yc»u and him,” replied Crockston, “but not a word 
about that, John. Trust in God, and He will not forsake 
you.” 

So saying, John Stiggs and Crockston went to the sailor’s 
berth, but the sailor did not lie down before he had seen the 
young novice comfortably settled in the narrow cabin which 
he had got for him. 

The next day, at six o’clock in the morning, Crockston 
got up to go to his place; he went on deck, where the first 
officer ordered him to go up into the rigging, and keep good 
watch. 

At these words the sailor seemed undecided what to do; 
then, making up his mind, he went towards the bows of the 
Dolphin. 

“Well, where are you off to now.?” cried Mr. Mathew. 

“Where you sent me,” answered Crockston. 

“I told you to go to the mainmast.” 

“And I am going there,” replied the sailor, in an un- 
concerned tone, continuing his way to the poop. 

“Are you a fool.?” cried Mr. Mathew, impatiently; “you 
are looking for the bars of the main on the foremast. You 
are like a cockney, who doesn’t know how to twist a cat-o’- 


502 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


nine-tails, or make a splice. On board what ship can you 
have been, man.? The mainmast, stupid, the mainmast!” 

The sailors who had run up to hear what was going on 
burst out laughing when they saw Crocks ton’s disconcerted 
look, as he went back to the forecastle. 

‘‘So,” said he, looking up the mast, the top of which was 
quite invisible through the morning mists ; “so, am I to climb 
up here.?” 

“Yes,” replied Mr. Mathew, “and hurry yourself! By 
St. Patrick, a Federal ship would have time to get her bow- 
sprit fast in our rigging before that lazy fellow could get to 
his post. Will you go up.?” 

Without a word, Crockston got on the bulwarks with 
some difficulty; then he began to climb the rigging with 
most visible awkwardness, like a man who did not know how 
to make use of his hands or feet. When he had reached the 
topgallant, instead of springing lightly on to it, he remained 
motionless, clinging to the ropes, as if he had been seized 
with giddiness. Mr. Mathew, irritated by his stupidity,, 
ordered him to come down immediately. 

“That fellow there,” said he to the boatswain, “has never 
been a sailor in his life. Johnston, just go and see what he 
has in his bundle.” 

The boatswain made haste to the sailor’s berth. 

In the meantime Crockston was with difficulty coming 
down again, but, his foot having slipped, he slid down the 
rope he had hold of, and fell heavily on the deck. 

“Clumsy blockhead! land-lubber!” cried Mr. Mathew, by 
way of consolation. “What did you come to do on board the 
Dolphin ! Ah ! you entered as an able seaman, and you can- 
not even distinguish the main from the foremast! I shall 
have a little talk with you.” 

Crockston made no attempt to speak; he bent his back 
like a man resigned to anything he might have to bear; 
just then the boatswain returned. 

“This,” said he to the first officer, “is all that I have 
found; a suspicious portfolio with letters.” 

“Give them here,” said Mr. Mathew. “Letters with Fed- 
eral stamps! Mr. Halliburtt, of Boston! An Abolitionist! 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


508 


a Federalist! Wretch! you are nothing but a traitor, and 
have sneaked on board to betray us ! Never mind, you will 
be paid for your trouble with the cat-o’-nine-tails ! Boat- 
swain, call the Captain, and you others just keep an eye 
on that rogue there.” 

Crockston received these compliments with a hideous 
grimace, but he did not open his lips. They had fastened 
him to the capstan, and he could move neither hand nor foot. 

A few minutes later James Playfair came out of his cabin 
and went to the forecastle, where Mr. Mathew immediately 
acquainted him with the details of the case. 

“What have you to say.^^” asked James Playfair, scarcely 
able to restrain his anger. 

“Nothing,” replied Crockston. 

“And what did you come on board my ship for.?^” 

“Nothing.^ 

“And what do you expect from me now.^” 

“Nothing.” 

“Who are you.^ An American, as letters seem to prove 

Crockston did not answer. 

“Boatswain,” said James Playfair, “fifty lashes with the 
cat-o’-nine-tails to loosen his tongue. Will that be enough, 
Crockston .?” 

“It will remain to be seen,” replied John Stiggs’ uncle 
without moving a muscle. 

“Now then, come along, men,” said the boatswain. 

At this order, two strong sailors stripped Crockston of 
his woollen jersey; they had already seized the formid- 
able weapon, and laid it across the prisoner’s shoulders, 
when the novice, John Stiggs, pale and agitated, hurried 
on deck. 

“Captain!” exclaimed he. 

“Ah! the nephew!” remarked James Playfair. 

“Captain,” repeated the novice, with a violent effort to 
steady his voice, “I will tell you what Crockston does not 
want to say. I will hide it no longer ; yes, he is American, 
and so am I; we are both enemies of the slave-holders, but 
not traitors come on board to betray the Dolphin into the 
hands of the Federalists.” 


504 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


‘‘What did you come to do, then?” asked the Captain, 
in a severe tone, examining the novice attentively. The 
latter hesitated a few seconds before replying, then he said, 
“Captain, I should like to speak to you in private.” 

Whilst John Stiggs made this request, James Playfair 
did not cease to look carefully at him ; the sweet young face 
of the novice, his peculiarly gentle voice, the delicacy and 
whiteness of his hands, hardly disguised by paint, the large 
eyes, the animation of which could not hide their tenderness 
— all this together gave rise to a certain suspicion in the 
Captain’s mind. When John Stiggs had made his request, 
Playfair glanced fixedly at Crockston, who shrugged his 
shoulders ; then he fastened a questioning look on the novice, 
which the latter could not withstand, and said simply to him, 
“Come.” 

John Stiggs followed the Captain on to the poop, and 
then James Playfair, opening the door of his cabin, said 
to the novice, whose cheeks were pale with emotion, “Be so 
kind as to walk in, miss.” 

John, thus addressed, blushed violently, and two tears 
rolled involuntarily down his cheeks. 

“Don’t be alarmed, miss,” said James Playfair, in a gentle 
voice, “but be so good as to tell me how I come to have the 
honour of having you on board?” 

The young girl hesitated a moment, then, reassured by 
the Captain’s look, she made up her mind to speak. 

“Sir,” said she, “I wanted to join my father at Charles- 
ton; the town is besieged by land and blockaded by sea. I 
knew not how to get there, when I heard that’ the Dolphin 
meant to force the blockade. I came on board your ship, 
and I beg you to forgive me if I acted without your con- 
sent, which you would have refused me.” 

“Certainly,” said James Playfair. 

“I did well, then, not to ask you,” resumed the young 
girl, with a firmer voice. 

The Captain crossed his arms, walked round his cabin, 
and then came back. 

“What is your name?” said he. 

“Jenny Halliburtt.” 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


505 


“Your father, if I remember rightly the address on the 
letters, is he not from Boston?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“And a Northerner is thus in a southern town in the 
thickest of the war?” 

“My father is a prisoner ; he was at Charleston when the 
first shot of the Civil War was fired, and the troops of the 
Union driven from Fort Sumter by the Confederates. My 
father’s opinions exposed him to the hatred of the slavist 
part, and by the order of General Beauregard he was im- 
prisoned. I was then in England, living with a relation who 
has just died, and left alone, with no help but that of 
Crockstcn, our faithful servant, I wished to go to my father 
and share his prison with him.” 

“What was Mr. Halliburtt, then?” asked James Play- 
fair. 

“A loyal and brave journalist,” replied Jenny proudly, 
“one of the noblest editors of the Tribune^ and the one who 
was the boldest in defending the cause of the negroes.” 

“An Abolitionist,” cried the Captain angrily; “one of 
those men w ho, under the vain pretence of abolishing slavery, 
have deluged their country wdth blood and ruin.” 

“Sir!” replied Jenny Halliburtt, growing pale, “you are 
insulting my father ; you must not forget that I stand alone 
to defend him.” 

The young Captain blushed scarlet; anger mingled with 
shame struggled in his breast; perhaps he would have an- 
swered the young girl, but he succeeded in restraining 
himself, and, opening the door of the cabin, he called 
“Boatswain I” 

The boatswain came to him directly. 

“This cabin wdll henceforward belong to Miss Jenny 
Halliburtt. Have a cot made ready for me at the end of 
the poop ; that’s all I want.” 

The boatswain looked with a stupefied stare at the young 
novice addressed in a feminine name, but on a sign from 
James Playfair he w^ent out. 

“And now, miss, you are at home,” said the young Cap- 
tain of the Dolphin. Then he retired. 


506 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


CHAPTER IV 
crockston’s trick 

It was not long* before the whole crew knew Miss Halli- 
burtt’s story, which Crockston was no longer hindered from 
telling. By the Captain’s orders he was released from the 
capstan, and the cat-o’-nine-tails returned to its place. 

‘‘A pretty animal,” said Crockston, ‘‘especially when it 
shows its velvety paws.” 

As soon as he was free, he went down to the sailors’ 
berths, found a small portmanteau, and carried it to Miss 
Jenny; the young girl was now able to resume her feminine 
attire, but she remained in her cabin, and did not again 
appear on deck. 

As for Crockston, it was well and duly agreed that, as 
he was no more a sailor than a horse-guard, he should be 
exempt from all duty on board. 

In the meanwhile the Dolphin, with her twin screws cut- 
ting the waves, sped rapidly across the Atlantic, and there 
was nothing now to do but keep a strict look-out. The day 
following the discovery of Miss Jenny’s identity, James 
Playfair paced the deck at the poop with a rapid step ; he 
had made no attempt to see the young girl and resume the 
conversation of the day before. 

Whilst he was walking to and fro, Crockston passed him 
several times, looking at him askant ^vith a satisfied grin. 
He evidently wanted to speak to the Captain, and at last 
his persistent manner attracted the attention of the latter, 
who said to him, somewhat impatiently: 

“How now, what do you want.?^ You are turning round 
me like a swimmer round a buoy: when are you going to 
leave off .?” 

“Excuse me. Captain,” answered Crockston, winking, 
“I wanted to speak to you.” 

“Speak, then.” 

“Oh, it is nothing very much. I only wanted to tell you 
frankly that you are a good fellow at bottoim” 

“Why at bottom.?” 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


507 


‘‘At bottom and surface also.” 

“I don’t want your compliments.” 

“I am not complimenting you. I shall wait to do that 
when you have gone to the end.” 

“To what end.?” 

“To the end of your task.” 

“Ah ! I have a task to fulfil.?” 

“Decidedly, you have taken the young girl and myself 
on board; good! You ha^e given up your cabin to Miss 
Halliburtt; good! You released me from the cat-o’-nine- 
tails; nothing could be better. You are going to take us 
straight to Charleston; that’s delightful, but it is not all.” 

“How not all.?” cried James Playfair, amazed at Crocks- 
ton’s boldness. 

“No, certainly not,” replied the latter, with a knowing 
look, “the father is prisoner there.” 

“Well, what about that.?” 

“Well, the father must be rescued.” 

“Rescue Miss Halliburtt’s father.?” 

“Most certainly, and it is worth risking something for 
such a noble man and courageous citizen as he.” 

“Master Crockston,” said James Playfair, frowning, .“I 
am not in the humour for your jokes, so have a care what 
you say.” 

“You misunderstand me, Captain,” said the American. 
“I am not joking in the least, but speaking quite seriously. 
What I have proposed may at first seem very absurd to 
you; when you have thought it over, you will see that you 
cannot do otherwise.” 

“What, do you mean that I must deliver Mr. Halli- 
burtt.?” 

“Just so. You can demand his release of General Beau- 
regard, who will not refuse you.” 

“But if he does refuse me.?” 

“In that case,” replied Crockston, in a deliberate tone, 
“we must use stronger measures, and carry off the prisoner 
by force.” 

“So,” cried James Playfair, who was beginning to get 
angry, “so, not content with passing through the Federal 


508 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


fleets and forcing the blockade of Charleston, I must run 
out to sea again from under the cannon of the forts, and 
this to deliver a gentleman I know nothing of, one of those 
Abolitionists whom I detest, one of those journalists who 
shed ink instead of their blood !” 

‘‘Oh, it is but a cannon-shot more or less !” added 
Crockston. 

“Master Crockston,” said James Playfair, “mind what 
I say: if ever you mention this ‘affair again to me, I will 
send you to the hold for the rest of the passage, to teach 
you manners.” 

Thus saying, the Captain dismissed the American, w^ho 
went off murmuring, “Ah, well, I am not altogether dis- 
pleased with this conversation: at any rate, the affair is 
broached; it will do, it will do!” 

James Playfair had hardly meant it when he said an 
Abolitionist whom I detest ; he did not in the least side with 
the Federals, but he did not wish to admit that the question 
of slavery was the predominant reason for the civil war 
of the United States, in spite of President Lincoln’s formal 
declaration. Did he, then, think that the Southern States, 
eight out of thiry-six, were right in separating wLen they 
had been voluntarily united Not so; he detested the North- 
erners, and that was all; he detested them as brothers 
separated from the common family — true Englishmen — 
wLo had thought it right to do what he, James Playfair, 
disapproved of with regard to the United States : these were 
the political opinions of the Captain of the Dolphin, But, 
more than this, the American war interfered wdth him per- 
sonally, and he had a grudge against those who had caused 
this war ; one can understand, then, how he would receive a 
proposition to deliver an Abolitionist, thus bringing down 
on him the Confederates, with whom he pretended to do 
business. 

How^ever, Crockston’s insinuation did not fail to disturb 
him; he cast the thought from him, but it returned un- 
ceasingly to his mind, and when Miss Jenny came on deck 
the next day for a few minutes, he dared not look her in 
the face. 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 509 

And really it was a great pity, for this young girl, with 
the fair hair and sweet, intelligent face, deserved to be 
looked at by a young man of thirty. But James felt em- 
barrassed in her presence; he felt that this charming crea- 
ture who had been educated in the school of misfortune 
possessed a strong and generous soul; he understood that 
his silence towards her inferred a refusal to acquiesce in 
her dearest wishes; besides. Miss Jenny never looked out 
for J ames Playfair, neither did she avoid him. Thus for the 
first few days they spoke little or not at all to each other. 
Miss Halliburtt scarcely ever left her cabin, and it is certain 
she would never have addressed herself to the Captain of 
the Dolphin if it had not . been for Crockston’s strategy, 
which brought both parties together. 

The worthy American was a faithful servant of the 
Halliburtt family; he had been brought up in his master’s 
house, and his devotion knew no bounds. His good sense 
equalled his courage and energy, and, as has been seen, he 
had a way of looking things straight in the face. He was 
very seldom discouraged, and could generally find a way 
out of the most intricate dangers with a wonderful skill. 

This honest fellow had taken it into his head to deliver 
Mr. Halliburtt, to employ the Captain’s ship, and the Cap- 
tain himself for this purpose, and to return with him to 
England. Such was his intention, so long as the young girl 
had no other object than to rejoin her father and share his 
captivity. It was this Crockston tried to make the Captain 
understand, as we have seen, but the enemy had not yet 
surrendered; on the contrary. 

“Now,” said he, “it is absolutely necessary that Miss 
Jenny and the Captain come to an understanding; if they 
are going to be sulky like this all the passage we shall get 
nothing done. They must speak, discuss; let them dispute 
even, so long as they talk, and I’ll be hanged if during their 
conversation James Playfair does not propose himself what 
he refused me to-day.” 

But when Crockston saw that the young girl and the 
young man avoided each other, he began to be perplexed. 

“We must look sharp,” said he to himself, and the morn- 


510 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


ing of the fourth day he entered Miss Halliburtt’s cabin, 
rubbing his hands with an air of perfect satisfaction. 

“Good news !” cried he, “good news ! You will never guess 
what the Captain has proposed to me. A very noble young 
man he is. Now try.” 

“Ah!” replied Jenny, whose heart beat violently, “has he 
proposed to ” 

“To deliver Mr. Halliburtt, to carry him off from the 
Confederates, and bring him to England.” 

“Is it true?” cried Jenny. 

“It is as I say, miss. What a good-hearted man this 
James Playfair is! These English are either all good or all 
bad. Ah! he may reckon on my gratitude, and I am ready 
to cut myself in pieces if it would please him.” 

Jenny’s joy was profound on hearing Crockston’s words. 
Deliver her father ! She had never dared to think of such a 
plan, and the Captain of the Dolphin was going to risk his 
ship and crew! 

“That’s what he is,” added Crockston; “and this. Miss 
Jenny, is well worth an acknowledgment from you.” 

“More than an acknowledgment,” cried the young girl; 
“a lasting friendship !” 

And immediately she left the cabin to find James Play- 
fair, and express to him the sentiments which flowed from 
her heart. 

“Getting on by degrees,” muttered the American. 

James Playfair was pacing to and fro on the poop, and, 
as may be thought, he was very much surprised, not to 
say amazed, to see the young girl come up to him, her eyes 
moist with grateful tears, and, holding out her hand to him, 
saying: 

“Thank you, sir, thank you for your kindness, which 
I should never have dared to expect from a stranger.” 

“Miss,” replied the Captain, as if he understood nothing 
of what she was talking, and could not understand, “I do 
not know ” 

“Nevertheless, sir, you are going to brave many dangers, 
perhaps compromise your interests for me, and you have 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


511 


done so much already in offering me on board an hospi- 
tality to which I have no right whatever ” 

“Pardon me, Miss Jenny,” interrupted James Playfair, 
“but I protest again I do not understand your words. I 
have acted towards you as any well-bred man would towards 
a lady, and my conduct deserves neither so many thanks 
nor so much gratitude.” 

“Mr. Playfair,” said Jenny, “it is useless to pretend any 
longer; Crockston has told me all!” 

“Ah!” said the Captain, “Crockston has told you all; 
then I understand less than ever the reason for your leaving 
your cabin, and saying these words which ” 

Whilst speaking the Captain felt very much embarrassed ; 
he remembered the rough way in which he had received 
the American’s overtures, but Jenny, fortunately for him, 
did not give him time for further explanation; she inter- 
rupted him, holding out her hand and saying: 

“Mr. James, I had no other object in coming on board 
your ship except to go to Charleston, and there, however 
cruel the slave-holders may be, they will not refuse to let 
a poor girl share her father’s prison; that was all. I had 
never thought of a return as possible ; but, since you are so 
generous as to wish for my father’s deliverance, since you 
will attempt everything to save him, be assured you have 
my deepest gratitude.” 

James did not know what to do or what part to assume; 
he bit his lip; he dared not take the hand offered him; he 
saw perfectly that Crockston had compromised him, so that 
escape was impossible. At the same time he had no thoughts 
of delivering Mr. Halliburtt, and getting complicated in a 
disagreeable business : but how dash to the ground the hope 
which had arisen in this poor girl’s heart? How refuse the 
hand which she held out to him with a feeling of such pro- 
found friendship ? How change to tears of grief the tears of 
gratitude which filled her eyes? 

So the young man tried to reply evasively, in a manner 
which would ensure his liberty of action for the future. 

“Miss Jenny,” said he, “rest assured I will do everything 
in my power for ” 


512 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


And he took the little hand in both of his, but with the 
gentle pressure he felt his heart melt and his head grow 
confused: words to express his thoughts failed him. He 
stammered out some incoherent words: 

“Miss — Miss Jenny — for you ” 

Crockston, who was watching him, rubbed his hands, grin- 
ning and repeating to himself : 

“It will come ! it will come ! it has come !” 

How James Playfair would have managed to extricate 
himself from his embarrassing position no one knows, but 
fortunately for him, if not for the Dolphin^ the man on 
watch was heard crying : 

“Ahoy, officer of the watch!” 

“What now?” asked Mr. Mathew. 

“A sail to windward!” 

James Playfair, leaving the young girl, immediately 
sprang to the shrouds of the mainmast. 


CHAPTER V 

THE SHOT FROM THE “iROQUOIS,” AND MISS JENNy’s 
ARGUMENTS 

LJ NTiL now the navigation of the Dolphin had been very 
fortunate. Not one ship had been signalled before the sail 
hailed by the man on watch. 

The Dolphin was then in 32° 51' lat., and 57° 4j3' W. 
long. For forty-eight hours a fog, which now began to rise, 
had covered the ocean. If this mist favoured the Dolphin by 
hiding her course, it also prevented any observations at a 
distance being made, and, without being aware of it, she 
might be sailing side by side, so to speak, with the ships she 
wished most to avoid. 

Now this is just what had happened, and when the ship 
was signalled she was only three miles to windward. 

When James Playfair had reached the cross-trees, he saw 
distinctly, through an opening in the mist, a large Federal 
corvette in full pursuit of the Dolphin, 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


51B 


After having carefully examined her, the Captain came 
down on deck again, and called to the first officer. 

“Mr. Mathew,” said he, “what do you think of this ship.^” 

“I think. Captain, that it is a Federal cruiser, which sus- 
pects our intentions.” 

“There is no possible doubt of her nationality,” said 
James Playfair. “Look!” 

At this moment the starry flag of the North United States 
appeared on the gaff-yards of the corvette, and the latter 
asserted her colours with a cannon-shot. 

“An invitation to show ours,” said Mr. Mathew. “Well, 
let us show them ; there is nothing to be ashamed of.” 

“What’s the good.?” replied James Playfair. “Our flag 
will hardly protect us, and it will not hinder those, people 
from paying us a visit. No; let us go ahead.” 

“And go quickly,” replied Mr. Mathew, “for, if my eyes 
do not deceive me, I have already seen that corvette lying 
off Liverpool, where she went to watch the ships in building : 
my name is not Mathew, if that is not the Iroquois on her 
taffrail.” 

“And is she fast.?” 

“One of the fastest vessels of the Federal marine.” 

“What guns does she carry.?” 

“Eight.” 

“Pooh!” 

“Oh, don’t shrug your shoulders. Captain,” said Mr. 
Mathew, in a serious tone ; “two out of those eight guns are 
rifled, one is a sixty-pounder on the forecastle, and the other 
a hundred-pounder on deck.” 

“Upon my soul!” exclaimed James Playfair, “they are 
Parrott’s, and will carry three miles.” 

“Yes, and farther than that. Captain.” 

“Ah, well! Mr. Mathew, let their guns be sixty or only 
four-pounders, and let them carry three miles or five hun- 
dred yards, it is all the same if we can go fast enough to 
avoid their shot. We will show this Iroquois how a ship can 
go when she is built on purpose to go. Have the fires drawn 
forward, Mr. Mathew.” 

The first officer gave the Captain’s orders to the engineer, 


514 THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 

and soon volumes of black smoke curled from the steamer’s 
chimneys. 

This proceeding did not seem to please the corvette, for 
she made the Dolphin the signal to lie to, but James Playfair 
paid no attention to this warning, and did not change his 
ship’s course. 

“Now,” said he, “we shall see what the Iroquois will do; 
here is a fine opportunity for her to try her guns. Go ahead 
full speed !” 

“Good!” exclaimed Mr. Mathew; “she will not be long 
in saluting us.” 

Returning to the poop, the Captain saw Miss Halliburtt 
sitting quietly near the bulwarks. 

“Miss Jenny,” said he, “we shall probably be chased by 
that corvette you see to windward, and as she will speak 
to us with shot, I beg to offer you my arm to take you to 
your cabin again.” 

“Thank you, very much, Mr. Playfair,” replied the young 
girl, looking at him, “but I am not afraid of cannon-shots.” 

“However, miss, in spite of , the distance, there may be 
some danger.” 

“Oh, I was not brought up to be fearful; they accustom 
us to everything in America, and I assure you that the shot 
from the Iroquois will not make me lower my head.” 

“You are brave. Miss Jenny.” 

“Let us admit, then, that I am brave, and allow me to 
stay by you.” 

“I can refuse you nothing. Miss Halliburtt,” replied the 
Captain, looking at the young girl’s calm face. 

These words were hardly uttered when they saw a line 
of white smoke issue from the bulwarks of the corvette ; be- 
fore the report had reached the Dolphin a projectile whizzed 
through the air in the direction of the steamer. 

At about twenty fathoms from the Dolphin the shot, the 
speed of which had sensibly lessened, skimmed over the 
surface of the waves, marking its passage by a series of 
water- jets; then, with another burst, it rebounded to a 
certain height, passed over the Dolphin, grazing the mizzen- 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


515 

yards on the starboard side, fell at thirty fathoms beyond, 
and was buried in the waves. 

‘‘By Jove!” exclaimed James Playfair, ‘Ve must get 
along; another slap like that is not to be waited for.” 

“Oh!” exclaimed INIr. Mathew, “they will take some time 
to reload such pieces.” 

“Upon my honour, it is an interesting sight,” said Crocks- 
ton, who, with arms crossed, stood perfectly at his ease look- 
ing at the scene. 

“Ah! that’s you,” cried James Playfair, scanning the 
American from head to foot. 

“It is me. Captain,” replied the American, undisturbed. 
“I have come to see how these brave Federals fire ; not badly, 
in truth, not badly.” 

The Captain was going to answer Crockston sharply, but 
at this moment a second shot struck the sea on the starboard 
side. 

“Good!” cried James Playfair, “we have already gained 
two cables on this Iroquois, Your friends sail like a buoy; 
do you hear. Master Crockston.?” 

“I will not say they don’t,” replied the American, “and 
for the first time in my life it does not fail to please me.” 

A third shot fell still farther astern, and in less than ten 
minutes the Dolphin was out of range of the corvette’s guns. 

“So much for patent-logs, Mr. Mathew,” said James 
Playfair; “thanks to those shot we know how to rate our 
speed. Now have the fires lowered; it is not worth while to 
waste our coal uselessly.” 

“It is a good ship that you command,” said Miss Halli- 
burtt to the young Captain. 

“Yes, Miss Jenny, my good Dolphin makes her seventeen 
knots, and before the day is over we shall have lost sight of 
that corvette.” 

James Playfair did not exaggerate the sailing qualities 
of his ship, and the sun had not set before the masts of the 
American ship had disappeared below the horizon. 

This incident allowed the Captain to see Miss Halli- 
burtt’s character in a new light ; besides, the ice was broken, 
henceforward, during the whole of the voyage; the inter- 


516 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


views between the Captain and his passenger were frequent 
and prolonged ; he found her to be a young girl, calm, strong, 
thoughtful, and intelligent, speaking with great ease, having 
her own ideas about everything, and expressing her thoughts 
with a conviction which unconsciously penetrated James 
Playfair’s heart. 

She loved her country, she was zealous in the great cause 
of the Union, and expressed herself on the civil war in the 
United States with an enthusiasm of which no other woman 
would have been capable. Thus it happened, more than once, 
that James Playfair found it difficult to answer her, even 
when questions purely mercantile arose in connection with 
the war: Miss Jenny attacked them none the less vigorously, 
and would come to no other terms whatever. At first James 
argued a great deal, and tried to uphold the Confederates 
against the Federals, to prove that the Secessionists were 
in the right, and that if the people were united voluntarily 
they might separate in the same manner. But the young girl 
would not yield on this point; she demonstrated that the 
question of slavery was predominant in the struggle between 
the North and South Americans, that it was far more a 
war in the cause of morals and humanity than politics, and 
James could make no answer. Besides, during these dis- 
cussions, which he listened to attentively, it is difficult to say 
whether he was more touched by Miss Halliburtt’s argu- 
ments or the charming manner in which she spoke; but at 
last he was obliged to acknowledge, among other things, that 
slavery was the principal feature in the war, that it must 
be put an end to decisively, and the last horrors of bar- 
barous times abolished. 

It has been said that the political opinions of the Captain 
did not trouble him much. He would have sacrificed his 
most serious opinion before such enticing arguments and 
under like circumstances; he made a good bargain of his 
ideas for the same reason, but at last he was attacked in his 
tenderest point ; this was the question of the traffic in which 
the Dolphin was being employed, and, consequently, the 
ammunition which was being carried to the Confederates. 

“Yes, Mr. James,” said Miss Halliburtt, “gratitude does 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


517 

not hinder me from speaking with perfect frankness ; on the 
contrary, you are a brave seaman, a clever merchant, the 
house of Playfair is noted for its respectability ; but in this 
case it fails in its principles, and follows a trade unworthy 
of it.” 

^^How!” cried James, ‘‘the house of Playfair ought not to 
attempt such a commercial enterprise?” 

“No! it is taking ammunition to the unhappy creatures 
in revolt against the government of their country, and it is 
lending arms to a bad cause.” 

“Upon my honour. Miss Jenny, I will not discuss the 
right of the Confederates with you ; I will only answer you 
with one word : I am a merchant, and as such I only occupy 
myself with the interests of my house; I look for gain 
wherever there is an opportunity of getting it.” 

“That is precisely what is to be blamed, Mr. James,” 
replied the young girl; “profit does not excuse it; thus,, 
when you supply arms to the Southerners, with which to 
continue a criminal war, you are quite as guilty as when 
you sell opium to the Chinese, which stupefies them.” 

“Oh, for once. Miss Jenny, this is too much, and I can- 
not admit ” 

“No; what I say is just, and when you consider it, when 
you understand the part you are playing, when you think 
of the results for which you are responsible, you will yield 
to me in this point, as in so many others.” 

James Playfair was dumfounded at these words; he left 
the young girl, a prey to angry thoughts, for he felt his 
powerlessness to answer ; then he sulked like a child for half 
an hour, and an hour later he returned to the singular young 
girl who could overwhelm him with convincing arguments 
with quite a pleasant smile. 

In short, however it may have come about, and although 
he would not acknowledge it to himself. Captain James 
Playfair belonged to himself no longer; he was no longer 
commander-in-chief on board his own ship. 

Thus, to Crockston’s great joy, Mr. Halliburtt’s affairs 
appeared to be in a good way ; the Captain seemed to have 
decided to undertake everything in his power to deliver 


518 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


Miss Jenny’s father, and for this he would be obliged to 
compromise the Dolphi/n, his cargo, his crew, and incur the 
displeasure of his worthy Uncle Vincent. 


CHAPTER VI 

SULLIVAN ISLAND CHANNEL 

T. WO days after the meeting with the Iroquois, the Dolphin 
found herself abreast of the Bermudas, where she was 
assailed by a violent squall. These isles are frequently visited 
by hurricanes, and are celebrated for shipwrecks. It is here 
that Shakespeare has placed the exciting scene of his drama. 
The Tempest, in which Ariel and Caliban dispute for the 
empire of the floods. 

The squall was frightful; James Playfair thought once 
of running for one of the Bermudas, where the English had 
a military post: it would have been a sad waste of time, 
and therefore especially to be regretted; happily the Dol- 
phin behaved herself wonderfully well in the storm, and, 
after flying a whole day before the tempest, she was able to 
resume her course towards the American coast. 

But if James Playfair had been pleased with his ship, he 
had not been less delighted with the young girl’s bravery; 
Miss Halliburtt had passed the worst hours of the storm at 
his side, and James knew that a profound, imperious, irre- 
sistible love had taken possession of his whole being. 

‘‘Yes,” said he, “this brave girl is mistress on board; 
she turns me like the sea a ship in distress — I feel that I am 
foundering! What will Uncle Vincent say? Ah! poor 
nature, I am sure that if Jenny asked me to throw all this 
cursed cargo into the sea, I should do it without hesitating, 
for love of her.” 

Happily for the firm of Playfair & Co., Miss Halliburtt 
did not demand this sacrifice; nevertheless, the poor Cap- 
tain had been taken captive, and Crockston, who read his 
heart like an open book, rubbed his hands gleefully. 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 519 

‘‘We will hold him fast!” he muttered to himself, “and 
before a week has passed my master will be quietly installed 
in one of the best cabins of the Dolphin.^’ 

As for Miss Jenny, did she perceive the feelings which she 
inspired? Did she allow herself to share them? No one 
could say, and James Playfair least of all; the young girl 
kept a perfect reserve, and her secret remained deeply 
buried in her heart. 

But whilst love was making such progress in the heart of 
the young Captain, the Dolphin sped with no less rapidity 
towards Charleston. 

On the 18 th of January, the watch signalled land ten 
miles to the west. It was a low-lying coast, and almost 
blended with the line of the sea in the distance. Crockston 
was examining the horizon attentively, and about nine 
o’clock in the morning he cried : 

“Charleston lighthouse !” 

Now that the bearings of the Dolphin were set, James 
Playfair had but one thing to do, to decide by which channel 
he would run into Charleston Bay. 

“If we meet with no obstacles,” said he, “before three 
o’clock we shall be in safety in the docks of the port.” 

The town of Charleston is situated on the banks of an 
estuary seven miles long and two broad, called Charleston 
Harbour, the entrance to which is rather difficult. It is en- 
closed between Morris Island on the south and Sullivan 
Island on the north. At the time when the Dolphin attempted 
to force the blockade Morris Island already belonged to 
the Federal troops, and General Gillmore had caused bat- 
teries to be erected overlooking the harbour. Sullivan Island, 
on the contrary, was in the hands of the Confederates, who 
were also in possession of Moultrie Fort, situated at the 
extremity of the island ; therefore it would be advantageous 
to the Dolphin to go as close as possible to the northern 
shores to avoid the firing from the forts on Morris Island. 

Five channels led into the estuary, Sullivan Island Chan- 
nel, the Northern Channel, the Overall Channel, the Prin- 
cipal Channel, and lastly, the Lawford Channel ; but it was 


520 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


useless for strangers, unless they had skilful pilots on board, 
or ships drawing less than seven feet of water, to attempt 
this last; as for Northern and Overall Channels, they were 
in range of the Federalist batteries, so that it was no good 
thinking of them. If James Playfair could have had his 
choice, he would have taken his steamer through the Prin- 
cipal Channel, which was the best, and the bearings of which 
were easy to follow; but it was necessary to yield to cir- 
cumstances, and to decide according to the event. Besides, 
the Captain of the Dolphin knew perfectly all the secrets 
of this bay, its dangers, the depths of its water at low tide, 
and its currents, so that he was able to steer his ship with the 
greatest safety as soon as he entered one of these narrow 
straits. The great question was to get there. 

Now this work demanded an experienced seaman, and 
one who knew exactly the qualities of the Dolphin. 

In fact, two Federal frigates were now cruising in the 
Charleston waters. Mr. Mathew soon drew James Playfair’s 
attention to them. 

“They are preparing to ask us what we want on these 
shores,” said he. 

“Ah, well! we won’t answer them,” replied the Captain, 
■^‘and they will not get their curiosity satisfied.” 

In the meanwhile the cruisers were coming on full steam 
towards the Dolphin, who continued her course, taking care 
to keep out of range of their guns. But in order to gain time 
James Playfair made for the south-west, wishing to put the 
enemies’ ships off their guard ; the latter must have thought 
that the Dolphin intended to make for Morris Island Chan- 
nel. Now there they had batteries and guns, a single shot 
from which would have been enough to sink the English 
ship ; so the Federals allowed the Dolphin to run towards the 
south-west, contenting themselves by observing her without 
following closely. 

Thus for an hour the respective situations of the ships did 
not change, for James Playfair, wishing to deceive the cruis- 
ers as to the course of the Dolphin, had caused the fires 
to be moderated* so that the speed was decreased. How- 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


521 


ever, from the thick volumes of smoke which escaped from 
the chimneys, it might have been thought that he was trying 
to get his maximum pressure, and, consequently his maxi- 
mum of rapidity. 

“They will be slightly astonished presently,” said James 
Playfair, “when they see us slip through their fingers!” 

In fact, when the Captain saw that he was near enough 
to Morris Island, and before a line of guns, the range of 
which he did not know, he turned his rudder quickly, and 
the ship resumed her northerly course, leaving the cruisers 
two miles to windward of her ; the latter, seeing this- 
manoeuvre, understood the steamer’s object, and began to 
pursue her in earnest, but it was too late. The Dolphin 
doubled her speed under the action of the screws, and 
distanced them rapidly. Going nearer to the coast, a few 
shell were sent after her as an acquittal of conscience, but 
the Federals were outdone, for their projectiles did not 
reach half-way. At eleven o’clock in the morning, the 
steamer ranging near Sullivan Island, thanks to her small 
draft, entered the narrow strait full steam ; there she was in 
safety, for no Federalist cruiser dared follow her in this 
channel, the depth of which, on an average, was only eleven 
feet at low tide. 

“How!” cried Crockston, “and is that the only difficulty.^” 

“Oh! oh! Master Crockston,” said James Playfair, “the 
diflficulty is not in entering, but in getting out again.” 

“Nonsense!” replied the American, “that does not make 
me at all uneasy; with a boat like the Dolphin and a Cap- 
tain like Mr. James Playfair, one can go where one likes, 
and come out in the same manner.” 

Nevertheless, James Playfair, with telescope in his hand, 
was attentively examining the route to be followed. He had 
before him excellent coasting guides, with which he could 
go ahead without any difficulty or hesitation. 

Once his ship was safely in the narrow channel which 
runs the length of Sullivan Island, James steered bearing 
towards the middle of Fort Moultrie as far as the Pickney 
Castle, situated on the isolated island of Shute’s Folly; 


522 THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 

on the other side rose Fort Johnson, a little way to the north 
of Fort Sumter. 

At this moment the steamer was saluted by some shot 
which did not reach her, from the batteries on Morris 
Island. She continued her course without any deviation, 
passed before Moultrieville, situated at the extremity of 
Sullivan Island, and entered the bay. 

Soon Fort Sumter on the left protected her from the bat- 
teries of the Federalists. 

This fort, so celebrated in the civil war, is situated three 
miles and a half from Charleston, and about a mile from 
each side of the bay: it is nearly pentagonal in form, built 
on an artificial island of Massachusetts granite ; it took ten 
years to construct and cost more than 900,000 dollars. 

It was from this fort, on the 13th of April, 1861, that 
Anderson and the Federal troops were driven, and it was 
against it that the first shot of the Confederates was fired. 
It is impossible to estimate the quantity of iron and lead 
which the Federals showered down upon it. However, it 
resisted for almost three years, but a few months after the 
passage of the Dolphin it fell beneath General Gillmore’s 
three hundred-pounders on Morris Island. 

But at this time it was in all its strength, and the Con- 
federate flag floated proudly above it. 

Once past the fort, the town of Charleston appeared, 
lying between Ashley and Cooper Rivers. 

James Playfair threaded his way through the buoys which 
mark the entrance of the channel, leaving behind the 
Charleston lighthouse, visible above Morris Island. He had 
hoisted the English flag, and made his way with wonderful 
rapidity through the narrow channels. When he had passed 
the quarantine buoy, he advanced freely into the centre of 
the bay. Miss Halliburtt was standing on the poop, looking 
at the town where her father was kept prisoner, and her 
eyes filled with tears. 

At last the steamer’s speed was moderated by the Cap- 
tain’s orders; the Dolphin ranged along the end of the 
south and east batteries, and was soon moored at the quay 
of the North Commercial Wharf. 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


52S 


CHAPTER VII 

A SOUTHERN GENERAL 

T HE Dolphin^ on arriving at the Charleston quay, had 
been saluted by the cheers of a large crowd. The inhabitants 
of this town, strictly blockaded by sea, were not accustomed 
to visits from European ships. They asked each other, not 
without astonishment, what this great steamer, proudly bear- 
ing the English flag, had come to do in their waters ; but 
when they learned the object of her voyage, and why she 
had just forced the passage Sullivan, when the report spread 
that she carried a cargo of smuggled ammunition, the 
cheers and joyful cries were redoubled. 

James Playfair, without losing a moment, entered into 
negotiation with General Beauregard, the military com- 
mander of the town. The latter eagerly received the young 
Captain of the Dolphin, who had arrived in time to provide 
the soldiers with the clothes and ammunition they were so 
much in want of. It was agreed that the unloading of the 
ship should take place immediately, and numerous hands 
came to help the English sailors. 

Before quitting his ship James Playfair had received from 
Miss Halliburtt the most pressing injunctions with regard 
to her father, and the Captain had placed himself entirely 
at the young girl’s service. 

“Miss Jenny,” he had said, “you may rely on me; I will 
do the utmost in my power to save your father, but I hope 
this business will not present many difficulties. I shall go 
and see General Beauregard to-day, and, without asking 
him at once for Mr. Hallibuidt’s liberty, I shall learn in 
what situation he is, whether he is on bail or a prisoner.” 

“My poor father!” replied Jenny, sighing; “he little 
thinks his daughter is so near him. Oh that I could fly into 
his arms!” 

“A little patience. Miss Jenny; you will soon embrace 
your father. Rely upon my acting with the most entire de- 
votion, but also with prudence and consideration.” 

This is why James Playfair, after having delivered the 


.5^4} THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 

cargo of the Dolphin up to the General, and bargained for 
an immense stock of cotton, faithful to his promise, turned 
the conversation to the events of the day. 

“So,” said he, “you believe in the triumph of the slave- 
holders.^” 

“I do not for a moment doubt of our final success, and, 
as regards Charleston, Lee’s army will soon relieve it: be- 
sides, what do you expect from the Abolitionists ? Admitting 
that which will never be, that the commercial towns of Vir- 
ginia, the two Carolinas, Georgia, Alabama, fall under their 
power, what then.^ Will they be masters of a country they 
can never occupy.^ No, certainly not; and for my part, if 
they are ever victorious, they shall pay dearly for it.” 

“And you are quite sure of your soldiers.?” asked the 
Captain. “You are not afraid that Charleston will grow 
weary of a siege which is ruining her.?” 

“No, I do not fear treason ; besides, the traitors would 
be punished remorselessly, and I would destroy the town it- 
self by sword or fire if I discovered the least Unionist move- 
ment. Jefferson Davis confided Charleston to me, and you 
may be sure that Charleston is in safe hands.” 

“Have you any Federal prisoners.?” asked James Play- 
fair, coming to the interesting object of the conversation. 

“Yes, Captain,” replied the General, “it was at Charles- 
ton that the first shot of separation was fired. The Aboli- 
tionists who were here attempted to resist, and, after being 
defeated, they have been kept as prisoners of war.” 

“And have you many.?” 

'‘About a hundred.” 

“Free in the town.?” 

“They were until I discovered a plot formed by them: 
their chief succeeded in establishing a communication with 
the besiegers, who were thus informed of the situation of 
affairs in the town. I was then obliged to lock up these 
dangerous guests, and several of them will only leave their 
prison to ascend the slope of the citadel, where ten con- 
federate balls will reward them for their federalism.” 

“What! to be shot!” cried the young man, shuddering 
involuntarily. 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 525 

“Yes, and their cliief first of all. He is a very dangerous 
man to have in a besieged town. I have sent his letters to 
the President at Richmond, and before a week is passed his 
sentence will be irrevocably passed.” 

“Who is this man you speak of.^” asked James Playfair, 
with an assumed carelessness. 

“A journalist from Boston, a violent Abolitionist with 
the confounded spirit of Lincoln.” 

“And his name.?” 

“Jonathan Halliburtt.” 

“Poor wretch!” exclaimed James, suppressing his emo- 
tion. “Whatever he may have done, one cannot help pitying 
him. And you think that he will be shot?” 

“I am sure of it,” replied Beauregard. “What can you 
expect? War is war; one must defend oneself as best one 
can.” 

“Well, it is nothing to me,” said the Captain. “I shall 
be far enough away when this execution takes place.” 

“What ! you are thinking of going away already.” 

“Yes, General, business must be attended to; as soon as 
my cargo of cotton is on board I shall be out to sea again. 
I was fortunate enough to enter the bay, but the difficulty 
is in getting out again. The Dolphin is a good ship; she 
can beat any of the Federal vessels for speed, but she does 
not pretend to distance cannon-balls, and a shell in her hull 
or engine would seriously affect my enterprise.” 

“As you please. Captain,” replied Beauregard; “I have 
no advice to give you under such circumstances. You are 
doing your business, and you are right. I should act in the 
same manner were I in your place ; besides, a stay at Charles- 
ton is not very pleasant, and a harbour where shells are 
falling three days out of four is not a safe shelter for your 
ship ; so you will set sail when you please ; but can you tell 
me what is the number and the force of the Federal vessels 
cruising before Charleston?” 

James Playfair did his best to answer the General, and 
took leave of him on the best of terms; then he returned 
to the Dolphin very thoughtful and very depressed from 
what he had just heard. 


526 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


“What shall I say to Miss Jenny? Ought I to tell her of 
Mr. Halliburtt’s terrible situation? Or would it be better 
to keep her in ignorance of the trial which is awaiting her? 
Poor child!” 

He had not gone fifty steps from the governor’s house 
when he ran against Crockston. The worthy American had 
been watching for him since his departure. 

“Well, Captain?” 

James Playfair looked steadily at Crockston, and the lat- 
ter soon understood he had no favourable news to give him. 

“Have you seen Beauregard?” he asked. 

“Yes,” replied James Playfair. 

“And have you spoken to him about Mr. Halliburtt?” 

“No, it was he who spoke to me about him.” 

“Well, Captain?” 

“Well, I may as well tell you everything, Crockston.” 

“Everything, Captain.” 

“General Beauregard has told me that your master will 
be shot within a week.” 

At this news anyone else but Crockston would have grown 
furious or given way to bursts of grief, but the American, 
who feared nothing, only said, with almost a smile on his 
lips: 

“Pooh! what does it matter?” 

“How! what does it matter?” cried James Playfair. “I 
tell you that Mr. Halliburtt will be shot within a week, and 
you answer, what does it matter?” 

“And I mean it — if in six days he is on board the Dolphin^ 
and if in seven days the Dolphin is on the open sea.” 

“Right !” exclaimed the Captain, pressing Crockston’s 
hand. “I understand, my good fellow, you have got some 
pluck; and for myself, in spite of Uncle Vincent, I would 
throw myself overboard for Miss Jenny.” 

“No one need be thrown overboard,” replied the American, 
“only the fish would gain by that: the most important busi- 
ness now is to deliver Mr. Halliburtt.” 

“But you must know that it will be difficult to do so.” 

“Pooh!” exclaimed Crockston. 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 527 

“It is a question of communicating with a prisoner strictly 
guarded.” 

“Certainly.” 

“And to bring about an almost miraculous escape.” 

“Nonsense,” exclaimed Crockston; “a prisoner thinks 
more of escaping than bis guardian thinks of keeping him; 
that’s why, thanks to our help, Mr. Halliburtt will be saved.” 

“You are right, Crockston.” 

“Always right.” 

“But now what will you do? There must be some plan: 
and there are precautions to be taken.” 

“I will think about it.” 

“But when Miss Jenny learns that her father is con- 
demned to death, and that the order for his execution may 
come any day ” 

“She will know nothing about it, that is all.” 

“Yes, it will be better for her and for us to tell her 
nothing.” 

“Where is Mr. Halliburtt imprisoned?” asked Crockston. 

“In the citadel,” replied James Playfair. 

“Just so! . . . On board now?” 

“On board, Crockston!” 


CHAPTER VIII 

THE ESCAPE 

M iss Jenny, sitting at the poop of the Dolphin^ was 
anxiously waiting the Captain’s return ; when the latter went 
up to her she could not utter a word, but her eyes questioned 
James Playfair more eagerly than her lips could have done. 
The latter, with Crockston’s help, informed the young girl 
of the facts relating to her father’s imprisonment. He said 
that he had carefully broached the subject of the prisoners 
of war to Beauregard, but, as the General did not seem 
disposed at all in their favour, he had thought it better to 
say no more about it, but think the matter over again. 

“Since Mr. Halliburtt is not free in the town, his escape 


528 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


will be more difficult; but I will finish my task, and I 
promise you, Miss Jenny, that the Dolphin shall not leave 
Charleston without having your father on board.” 

“Thank you, Mr. James; I thank you with my whole 
heart.” 

At these words James Playfair felt a thrill of joy through 
his whole being. 

He approached the young girl with moist eyes and quiver- 
ing lips; perhaps he was going to make an avowal of the 
sentiments he could no longer repress, when Crockston in- 
terfered : 

“This is no time for grieving,” said he ; “we must go to 
work, and consider what to do.” 

“Have you any plan, Crockston.?” asked the young girl. 

“I always have a plan,” replied the American: “it is my 
peculiarity.” 

“But a good one.?” said James Playfair. 

“Excellent! and all the ministers in Washington could 
not devise a better ; it is almost as good as if Mr. Halliburtt 
was already on board.” 

Crockston spoke with such perfect assurance, at the same 
time with such simphcity, that it must have been the most 
incredulous person who could doubt his words. 

“We are listening, Crockston,” said James Playfair. 

“Good! You, Captain, will go to General Beauregard, and 
ask a favour of him which he will not refuse you.” 

“And what is that.?” 

“You will tell him that you have on board a tiresome 
subject, a scamp who has been very troublesome during the 
voyage, and excited the crew to revolt. You will ask of him 
permission to shut him up in the citadel; at the same time, 
on the condition that he shall return to the ship on her de- 
parture, in order to be taken back to England, to be de- 
livered over to the justice of his country.” 

“Good!” said James Playfair, half smiling, “I will do 
all that, and Beauregard will grant my request very 
willingly.” 

“I am perfectly sure of it,” replied the American. 

“But,” resumed Playfair, “one thing is wanting.” 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


529 


“What is that?” 

“The scamp.” 

“He is before you, Captain.” 

“What, the rebellious subject?” 

“Is myself; don’t trouble yourself about that.” 

“Oh! you brave, generous heart,” cried Jenny, pressing 
the American’s rough hands between her small white palms. 

“Go, Crockston,” said James Playfair; “I understand 
you, my friend; and I only regret one thing — ^that is, that 
I cannot take your place.” 

“Everyone his part,” replied Crockston; “if you put 
yourself in my place you would be very much embarrassed, 
which I shall not be; you will have enough to do later on 
to get out of the harbour under the fire of the Feds and 
Rebs, which, for my part, I should manage very badly.” 

“Well, Crockston, go on.” 

“Once in the citadel — I know it — I shall see what to do, 
and rest assured I shall do my best; in the meanwhile, you 
will be getting your cargo on board.” 

“Oh, business is now a very unimportant detail,” said the 
Captain. 

“Not at all! And what would your Uncle Vincent say to 
that? We must join sentiment with work ; it will prevent sus- 
picion ; but do it quickly. Can you be ready in six days ?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, let the Dolphin be ready to start on the 22nd.” 

“She shall be ready.” 

“On the evening of the 22nd of January, you understand, 
send a gig with your best men to White Point, at the end 
of the town; wait there till nine o’clock, and then you will 
see Mr. Halliburtt and your servant.” 

“But how will you manage to effect Mr. Halliburtt’s 
deliverance, and also escape yourself?” 

“That’s my look-out.” 

“Dear Crockston, you are going to risk your life then, 
to save my father!” 

“Don’t be uneasy. Miss Jenny, I shall risk absolutely 
nothing, you may believe me.” 


530 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


“Well,” asked James Playfair, “when must I have you 
locked up?” 

“To-day — you understand — I demoralise your crew ; 
there is no time to be lost.” 

“Would you like any money? It may be of use to you 
in the citadel.” 

“Money to buy the gaoler! Oh, no, it would be a poor 
bargain; when one goes there the gaoler keeps the money 
and the prisoner! No, I have surer means than that; how- 
ever, a few dollars may be useful ; one must be able to drink, 
if needs be.” 

“And intoxicate the gaoler.” 

“No, an intoxicated gaoler would spoil everything. No, 
I tell you I have an idea ; let me work it out.” 

“Here, my good fellow, are ten dollars.” 

“It is too much, but I will return what is over.” 

“Well, then, are you ready?” 

“Quite ready to be a downright rogue.” 

“Let us go to work, then.” 

“Crockston,” said the young girl, in a faltering voice, 
“you are the best man on earth.” 

“I know it,” replied the American, laughing good- 
humouredly. “By the by. Captain, an important item.” 

“What is that?” 

“If the General proposes to hang your rebel — you know 
that military men like sharp work ” 

“Well, Crockston?” 

“Well, you will say that you must think about it.” 

“I promise you I will.” 

The same day, to the great astonishment of the crew, who 
were not in the secret, Crockston, with his feet and hands 
in irons, was taken on shore by a dozen sailors, and half 
an hour after, by Captain James Playfair’s request, he was 
led through the streets of the town, and, in spite of his 
resistance, was imprisoned in the citadel. 

During this and the following days the unloading of the 
Dolphin was rapidly accomplished; the steam cranes lifted 
out the European cargo to make room for the native goods. 
The people of Charleston, who were present at this inter- 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


531 


esting work, helped the sailors, whom they held in great 
respect, but the Captain did not leave the brave fellows 
much time for receiving compliments; he was constantly 
behind them, and urged them on with a feverish activity, 
the reason of which the sailors could not suspect. 

Three days later, on the 18th of January, the first bales 
of cotton began to be packed in the hold : although 
James Playfair troubled himself no more about it, the firm 
of Playfair and Co. were making an excellent bargain, hav- 
ing obtained the cotton which encumbered the Charleston 
wharves at very far less than its value. 

In the meantime no news had been heard of Crockston. 
Jenny, without saying anything about it, was a prey to 
incessant fears; her pale face spoke for her, and James 
Playfair endeavoured his utmost to ease her mind. 

“I have all confidence in Crockston,” said he; “he is a 
devoted servant, as you must know better than I do. Miss 
Jenny. You must make yourself quite at ease; beheve me, 
in three days you will be folded in your father’s arms.” 

“Ah! Mr. James,” cried the young girl, “how can I ever 
repay you for such devotion.^ How shall we ever be able to 
thank you.?^” 

“I will tell you when we are in English seas,” replied 
the young Captain. 

Jenny raised her tearful face to him for a moment, then 
her eyelids drooped, and she went back to her cabin. 

James Playfair hoped that the young girl would know 
nothing of her father’s terrible situation until he was in 
safety, but she was apprised of the truth by the involuntary 
indiscretion of a sailor. 

The reply from the Richmond cabinet had arrived by a 
courier who had been able to pass the line of outposts; the 
reply contained Jonathan Halliburtt’s death-warrant. The 
news of the approaching execution was not long in spread- 
ing through the town, and it was brought on board by one 
of the sailors of the Dolphin; the man told the Captain, 
without thinking that Miss Halliburtt was within hearing; 
the young girl uttered a piercing cry, and fell unconscious 


5S2 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


on the deck. James Playfair carried her to her cabin, but 
the most assiduous care was necessary to restore her to life. 

When she opened her eyes again, she saw the young 
Captain, who, with a finger on his lips, enjoined absolute 
silence. With difficulty she repressed the outburst of her 
grief, and James Playfair, leaning towards her, said gently: 

Jenny, in two hours your father will be in safety near 
you, or I shall have perished in endeavouring to save him !” 

Then he left the cabin, saying to himself, “And now he 
must be carried off at any price, since I must pay for his 
liberty with my own life and those of my crew.” 

The hour for action had arrived, the loading of the cotton 
cargo had been finished since morning; in two hours the 
ship would be ready to start. 

James Playfair had left the North Commercial Wharf 
and gone into the roadstead, so that he was ready to make 
use of the tide, which would be high at nine o’clock in the 
evening. 

It was seven o’clock when James left the young girl, and 
began to make preparations for departure. Until the pres- 
ent time the secret had been strictly kept between himself, 
Crockston, and Jenny ; but now he thought it wise to inform 
Mr. Mathew of the situation of affairs, and he did so im- 
mediately. 

“Very well, sir,” replied Mr. Mathew, without making 
the least remark, “and nine o’clock is the time.?” 

“Nine o’clock, and have the fires lit immediately, and 
the steam got up.” 

“It shall be done. Captain.” 

“The Dolphin may remain at anchor; we will cut our 
moorings and sheer off, without losing a moment.” 

“Just so.” 

“Have a lantern placed at the mainmast-head ; the night 
is dark, and will be foggy; we must not risk losing our way 
in returning. You had better have the bell for starting rung 
at nine o’clock.” 

“Your orders shall be punctually attended to. Captain.” 

“And now, Mr. Mathew, have a shore-boat manned with 
six of our best men. I am going to set out directly for White 


THJi: BLOCKADE RUNNERS 533 

Point. I leave Miss Jenny in your charge, and may God 
protect us !” 

“May God protect us!” repeated the first officer. 

Then he immediately gave the necessary orders for the 
fires to be lighted, and the shore-boat provided with men. 
In a few minutes the boat was ready, and James Playfair, 
after bidding Jenny good-bye, stepped into it, whilst at the 
same time he saw volumes of black smoke issuing from the 
chimneys of the ship, and losing itself in the fog. 

The darkness was profound; the wind had fallen, and 
in the perfect silence the waters seemed to slumber in the 
immense harbour, whilst a few uncertain lights glimmered 
through the mist. James Playfair had taken his place at the 
rudder, and with a steady hand he guided his boat towards 
White Point. It was a distance of about two miles ; during 
the day James had taken his bearings perfectly, so that he 
was able to make direct for Charleston Point. 

Eight o’clock struck from the church of St. Philip when 
the shore-boat ran aground at White Point. 

There w^as an hour to wait before the exact time fixed 
by Crockston; the quay was deserted, with the exception 
of the sentinel pacing to and fro on the south and east 
batteries. James Playfair grew impatient, and the minutes 
seemed hours to him. 

At half-past eight he heard the sound of approaching 
steps; he left his men with their oars clear and ready to 
start, and went himself to see who it was; but he had not 
gone ten feet when he met a band of coastguards, in all 
about twenty men. James drew his revolver from his waist, 
deciding to make use of it, if needs be; but what could he 
do against these soldiers, who were coming on to the quay? 

The leader came up to him, and, seeing the boat, asked : 

“Whose craft is that.^” 

“It is a gig belonging to the Dolphin , replied the young 
man. 

“And who are you.?” 

“Captain James Playfair.” 

“I thought you had already started, and were now in 
the Charleston channels.” 


534 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


‘‘I am ready to start. I ought even now to be on my 
way but ” 

“But ” persisted the coastguard. 

A bright idea shot through James’s mind, and he 
answered : 

“One of my sailors is locked up in the citadel, and, to 
tell the truth, I had almost forgotten him; fortunately I 
thought of him in time, and I have sent my men to bring 
him.” 

“Ah ! that troublesome fellow ; you wish to take him back 
to England.^” 

“Yes.” 

“He might as well be hung here as there,” said the coast- 
guard, laughing at his joke. 

“So I think,” said James Playfair, “but it is better to 
have the tiling done in the regular way.” 

“Not much chance of that. Captain, when you have to 
face the Morris Island batteries.” 

“Don’t alarm yourself. I got in and I’ll get out again.” 

“Prosperous voyage to you!” 

“Thank you.” 

With this the men went off, and the shore was left silent. 

At this moment nine o’clock struck ; it was the appointed 
moment. James felt his heart beat violently;. a whistle was 
heard; he replied to it, then he waited, listening, with his 
hand up to enjoin perfect silence on the sailors. A man 
appeared enveloped in a large cloak, and looking from one 
side to another. James ran up to him. 

“Mr. Halliburtt.P” 

“I am he,” replied the man with the cloak. 

“God be praised!” cried James Playfair. “Embark with- 
out losing a minute. Where is Crockston 

“Crockston!” exclaimed Mr. Halliburtt, amazed. “What 
do you mean.f^” 

“The man who has saved you and brought you here was 
your servant Crockston.” 

“The man who came with me was the gaoler from the 
citadel,” replied Mr. Halliburtt. 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


5S5 


“The gaoler!” cried James Playfair. 

Evidently he knew nothing about it, and a thousand fears 
crowded in his mind. 

“Quite right, the gaoler,” cried a well-known voice. “The 
gaoler is sleeping like a top in my cell.” 

“Crockston! you! Can it be you.^” exclaimed Mr. 
Halhburtt. 

“No time to talk now, master ; we will explain everything 
to you afterwards. It is a question of life or death. Get in 
quick !” 

The three men took their places in the boat. 

“Push off!” cried the captain. 

Immediately the six oars dipped into the water ; the boat 
darted like a fish through the waters of Charleston Harbour. 


CHAPTER IX 

BETWEEN TWO FIRES 

T HE boat, pulled by six robust oarsmen, flew over the 
water. The fog was growing dense, and it was with difficulty 
that James Playfair succeeded in keeping to the line of his 
bearings. Crockston sat at the bows, and Mr. Halliburtt at 
the stern, next the Captain. The prisoner, only now in- 
formed of the presence of his servant, wished to speak to 
him, but the latter enjoined silence. 

However, a few minutes later, when they were in the mid- 
dle of the harbour, Crockston determined to speak, knowing 
what thoughts were uppermost in Mr. Halliburtt’s mind. 

“Yes, my dear master,” said he, “the gaoler is in my 
place in the cell, where I gave him two smart blows, one on 
the head and the other on the stomach, to act as a sleeping 
draught, and this when he was bringing me my supper; 
there is gratitude for you. I took his clothes and his keys, 
found you, and let you out of the citadel, under the soldiers’ 
noses. That is all I have done.” 

“But my daughter asked Mr. Halliburtt. 


536 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


“Is on board the ship which is going to take you ta 
England.” 

“My daughter there ! there !” cried the American, spring- 
ing from his seat. 

“Silence!” replied Crockston, “a few minutes, and we 
shall be saved.” 

The boat flew through the darkness, but James Playfair 
was obliged to steer rather by guess, as the lanterns of the 
Dolphin were no longer visible through the fog. He was 
undecided what direction to follow, and the darkness was 
so great that the rowers could not even see to the end of 
their oars. 

“Well, Mr. James .^” said Crockston. 

“We must have made more than a mile and a half,” 
replied the Captain. “You don’t see anything, Crockston.?” 

“Nothing; nevertheless, I have good eyes; but we shall 
get there all right. They don’t suspect anything out there.” 

These words were hardly finished when the flash of a gun 
gleamed for an instant through the darkness, and vanished 
in the mist. 

“A signal!” cried James Playfair. 

“Whew !” exclaimed Crockston. “It must have come from 
the citadel. Let us wait.” 

A second, then a third shot was fired in the direction of 
the first, and almost the same signal was repeated a mile in 
front of the gig. 

“That is from Fort Sumter,” cried Crockston, “and it 
is the signal of escape. Urge on the men ; everything is dis- 
covered.” 

“Pull for your lives, my men!” cried James Playfair, 
urging on the sailors, “those gun-shots cleared my route. 
The Dolphin is eight hundred yards ahead of us. Stop! I 
hear the bell on board. Hurrah, there it is again! Twenty 
pounds for you if we are back in five minutes !” 

The boat skimmed over the waves under the sailors^ 
powerful oars. A cannon boomed in the direction of the 
town. Crockston heard a ball whiz past them. 

The bell on the Dolphin was ringing loudly. A few more 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 537 

strokes and the boat was alongside. A few more seconds and 
Jenny fell into her father’s arms. 

The gig was immediately raised, and James Playfair 
sprang on to the poop. 

‘Ts the steam up, Mr. Mathew.?” 

“Yes, Captain.” 

“Have the moorings cut at once.” 

A few minutes later the two screws carried the steamer 
towards the principal channel, away from Fort Sumter. 

“Mr. Mathew,” said James, “we must not think of tak- 
ing the Sullivan Island channel; we should run directly 
under the Confederate guns. Let us go as near as possible 
to the right side of the harbour out of range of the Federal 
batteries. Have you a safe man at the helm.?” 

“Yes, Captain.” 

“Have the lanterns and the fires on deck extinguished; 
there is a great deal too much light, but we cannot help the 
reflection from the engine-rooms.” 

During this conversation the Dolphin was going at a 
great speed ; but in altering her course to keep to the right 
side of the Charleston Harbour she was obliged to enter a 
channel which took her for a moment near Fort Sumter; 
and when scarcely half a mile off all the guns bearing on 
her were discharged at the same time, and a shower of shot 
and shell passed in front of the Dolphin with a thundering 
report. 

“Too soon, stupids,” cried James Playfair, with a burst of 
laughter. “Make haste, make haste, Mr. Engineer! We shall 
get between two fires.” 

The stokers fed the furnaces, and the Dolphin trembled 
all over with the effort of the engine as if she was on the 
point of exploding. 

At this moment a second report was heard, and another 
shower of balls whizzed behind the Dolphin. 

“Too late, stupids,” cried the young Captain, with a 
regular roar. 

Then Crockston, who was standing on the poop, cried, 
“That’s one passed. A few minutes more, and we shall have 
done with the Rebs.” 


538 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


“Then do you think we have nothing more to fear from 
Fort Sumter?” asked James. 

“Nothing at all, but everything from Fort Moultrie, at 
the end of Sullivan Island ; but they will only get a chance 
at us for half a minute, and then they must choose their 
time well, and shoot straight if they want to reach us. We 
are getting near.” 

“Right; the position of Fort Moultrie will allow us to 
go straight for the principal channel. Fire away then, fire 
away !” 

At the same moment, and as if in obedience to James 
Playfair, the fort was illuminated by a triple line of light- 
ning. A frightful crash was heard; then a crackling sound 
on board the steamer. 

“Touched this time!” exclaimed Crockston. 

“Mr. Mathew 1” cried the Captain to his second, who was 
stationed at the bows, “what has been damaged?” 

“The bowsprit broken.” 

“Any wounded?” 

“No, Captain.” 

“Well, then, the masts may go to Jericho. Straight into 
the pass! Straight! and steer towards the island.” 

“We have passed the Rebs!” cried Crockston; “and, if 
we must have balls in our hull, I would much rather have 
the Northerners; they are more easily digested.” 

In fact, the Dolphin could not yet consider herself out of 
danger; for, if Morris Island was not fortified with the 
formidable pieces of artillery which were placed there a few 
months later, nevertheless its guns and mortars could easily 
have sunk a ship like the Dolphin. 

The alarm had been given to the Federals on the island, 
and to the blockading squadron, by the firing from Forts 
Sumter and INIoultrie. The besiegers could not make out 
the reason of this night attack; it did not seem to be di- 
rected against them. However, they were obliged to consider 
it so, and were ready to reply. 

It occupied James Playfair’s thoughts whilst making to- 
wards the passes of Morris Island; and he had reason to 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


539 


fear, for in a quarter of an hour’s time lights gleamed 
rapidly through the darkness. A shower of small shell fell 
round the steamer, scattering the water over her bulwarks ; 
some of them even struck the deck of the Dolphin, but not 
on their points, which saved the ship from certain ruin. In 
fact, these shell, as it was afterwards discovered, could break 
into a hundred fragments, and each cover a superficial area 
of a hundred and twenty square feet with Greek fire, which 
would burn for twenty minutes, and nothing could extin- 
guish it. One of these shell alone could set a ship on fire. 
Fortunately for the Dolphin, they were a new invention, and 
as yet far from perfect. Once thrown into the air, a false 
rotary movement kept them inclined, and, when falling, in- 
stead of striking on their points, where is the percussion 
apparatus, they fell flat. This defect in construction alone 
saved the Dolphin. The falling of these shells did her little 
harm, and under the pressure of her over-heated boilers she 
continued to advance into the pass. 

At this moment, and in spite of his orders, Mr. Halliburtt 
and his daughter went to James Playfair on the poop; the 
latter urged them to return to their cabins, but Jenny de- 
clared that she would remain by the Captain. As for Mr. 
Halliburtt, who had just learnt all the noble conduct of his 
deliverer, he pressed his hand without being able to utter a 
word. 

The Dolphin was speeding rapidly towards the open sea. 
There were only three miles more before she would be in 
the waters of the Atlantic; if the pass was free at its en- 
trance, she was saved. James Playfair was wonderfully well 
acquainted with all the secrets of Charleston Bay, and he 
guided his ship through the darkness with an unerring 
iiand. He was beginning to think his daring enterprise suc- 
;i5essful, when a sailor on the forecastle cried : 

“A ship !” 

“A ship.^” cried James. 

‘‘Yes, on the larboard side.” 

The fog had cleared off, and a large frigate was seen 
making towards the pass, in order to obstruct the passage 


540 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


of the Dolphin. It was necessary, cost what it might, to 
distance her, and urge the steam-engine to an increase of 
speed, or all was lost. 

‘‘Port the helm at once!” cried the Captain. 

Then he sprang on to the bridge above the engine. By 
his orders one of the screws was stopped, and under the ac- 
tion of the other the Dolphin^ veeriug with an extraordinary 
rapidity, avoided running foul of the frigate, and advanced 
like her to the entrance of the pass. It was now a question of 
speed. 

James Playfair understood that in this lay his own safety. 
Miss Jenny’s, her father’s, and that of all his crew. 

The frigate was considerably in advance of the Dolphin. 
It was evident from the volumes of black smoke issuing from 
her chimneys that she was getting up her steam. James 
Playfair was not the man to be left in the background. 

“How are the engines cried he to the engineer. 

“At the maximum speed,” replied the latter; “the steam 
is escaping by all the valves.” 

“Fasten them down,” ordered the Captain. 

And his orders were executed at the risk of blowing up 
the ship. 

The Dolphin again increased her speed ; the pistons 
worked with frightful rapidity; the metal plates on which 
the engine was placed trembled under the terrific force of 
their blows. It was a sight to make the boldest shudder. 

“More pressure!” cried James Playfair; “put on more 
pressure !” 

“Impossible !” replied the engineer. “The valves are 
tightly closed ; our furnaces are full up to the mouths.” 

“What difference! Fill them with cotton soaked in spirits; 
we must pass that frigate at any price.” 

At these words the most daring of the sailors looked at 
each other, but did not hesitate. Some bales of cotton were 
thrown into the engine-room, a barrel of spirits broached 
over them, and this expensive fuel placed, not without 
danger, in the red-hot furnaces. The stokers could no longer 
bear each other speak for the roaring of the flames. Soon 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


541 


the metal plates of the furnaces became red-hot ; the pistons 
Aorked like the pistons of a locomotive ; the steamgauge 
jhowed a frightful tension ; the steamer flew over the water ; 
her boards creaked, and her chimneys threw out volumes of 
smoke mingled with flames. She was going at a headlong 
speed, but, nevertheless, she was gaining on the frigate — - 
passed her, distanced her, and in ten minutes was out of the 
channel. 

“Saved !” cried the Captain. 

“Saved!” echoed the crew, clapping their hands. 

Already the Charleston beacon was disappearing in the 
south-west; the sound of firing from the batteries grew 
fainter, and it might with reason be thought that the danger 
was all past, when a shell from a gun-boat cruising at large 
was hurled whizzing through the air. It was easy to trace 
its course, thanks to the line of fire which followed it. 

Then was a moment of anxiety impossible to describe; 
every one was silent, and each watched fearfully the arch 
described by the projectile. Nothing could be done to escape 
it, and in a few seconds it fell with a frightful noise on the 
fore-deck of the Dolphin. 

The terrified sailors crowded to the stern, and no one 
dared move a step, whilst the shell was burning with a brisk 
crackle. 

But one brave man alone among them ran up to the 
formidable weapon of destruction. It was Crockston ; he took 
the shell in his strong arms, whilst showers of sparks were 
falling from it ; then, with a superhuman effort, he threw it 
overboard. 

Hardly had the shell reached the surface of the water 
when it burst with a frightful report. 

“Hurrah! hurrah!” cried the whole crew of the Dolphin 
unanimously, whilst Crockston rubbed his hands. 

Some time later the steamer sped rapidly through the 
waters of the Atlantic ; the American coast disappeared in 
the darkness, and the distant lights which shot across the 
horizon indicated that the attack was general between the 
batteries of Morris Island and the forts of Charleston 
Harbour. 


542 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 


CHAPTER X 

ST. MUNGO 

T HE next day at sunrise the American coast had disap- 
peared; not a ship was visible on the horizon, and the 
Dolphin, moderating the frightful rapidity of her speed, 
made quietly towards the Bermudas. 

It is useless to recount the passage across the Atlantic, 
which was marked by no accidents, and ten days after the 
departure from Queenstown the French coast was hailed. 

What passed between the Captain and the young girl 
may be imagined, even by the least observant individuals. 
How could Mr. Halliburtt acknowledge the devotion and 
courage of his deliverer, if it was not by making him the 
happiest of men.? James Playfair did not wait for English 
seas to declare to the father and daughter the sentiments 
which overflowed his heart, and, if Crockston is to be be- 
lieved, Miss Jenny received his confession with a happiness 
she did not try to conceal. 

Thus it happened that on the 14th of February, 18 — , 
a numerous crowd was collected in the dim aisles of St. 
Mungo, the old cathedral of Glasgow. There were seamen, 
merchants, manufacturers, magistrates, and some of every 
denomination gathered here. There was Miss Jenny in bridal 
array and beside her the worthy Crockston, resplendent in 
apple-green clothes, with gold buttons, whilst Uncle Vin- 
cent stood proudly by his nephew. 

In short, they were celebrating the marriage of James 
Playfair, of the firm of Vincent Playfair & Co., of Glasgow, 
with Miss Jenny Halliburtt, of Boston. 

The ceremony was accomplished amidst great pomp. 
Everyone knew the history of the Dolphin, and everyone 
thought the young Captain well recompensed for his devo- 
tion. He alone said that his reward was greater than he 
deserved. 

In the evening there was a grand ball and banquet at 
Uncle Vincent’s house, with a large distribution of shillings 
to the crowd collected in Gordon Street. Crockston did 


THE BLOCKADE RUNNERS 543 

ample justice to this memorable feast, while keeping him- 
self perfectly within bounds. 

Everyone was happy at this wedding; some at their own 
happiness, and others at the happiness around them, which 
is not always the case at ceremonies of this kind. 

Late in the evening, when the guests had retired, James 
Playfair took his uncle’s hand. 

“Well, Uncle Vincent,” said he to him. 

“Well, Nephew James?” 

“Are you pleased with the charming cargo I brought you 
on board the Dolphin?^^ continued Captain Playfair, show- 
ing him his brave young wife. 

“I am quite satisfied,” replied the worthy merchant; “I 
have sold my cotton at three hundred and seventy-five per 
cent, profit.” 




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FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 


CHAPTER I 

THE GUN CLUB 

INURING the War of the Rebellion, a new and influential 
club was established in the city of Baltimore in the State 
of Maryland. It is well known with what energy the taste 
for military matters became developed among that nation 
of ship-owners, shopkeepers, and mechanics. Simple trades- 
men jumped their counters to become extemporized cap- 
tains, colonels, and generals, without having ever passed the 
School of Instruction at West Point; nevertheless, they 
quickly rivaled their compeers of the old continent, and, 
like them, carried off victories by dint of lavish expenditure 
in ammunition, money, and men. 

But the point in which the Americans singularly dis- 
tanced the Europeans was in the science of gunnery. Not, 
indeed, that their weapons retained a higher degree of per- 
fection than theirs, but that they exhibited unheard-of di- 
mensions, and consequently attained hitherto unheard-of 
ranges. In point of grazing, plunging, oblique, or enfilading, 
or point-blank firing, the English, French, and Prussians 
have nothing to learn; but their cannon, howitzers, and 
mortars are mere pocket-pistols compared with the formid- 
able engines of the American artillery. 

This fact need surprise no one. The Yankees, the first 
mechanicians in the world, are engineers — just as the Ital- 
ians are musicians and the Germans metaphysicians — ^by 
right of birth. Nothing is more natural, therefore, than to 
perceive them applying their audacious ingenuity to the 
science of gunnery. Witness the marvels of Parrott, Hahl- 
gren, and Rodman. The Armstrong, Palliser, and Beaulieu 
guns were compelled to bow before their transatlantic rivals. 

Now when an American has an idea, he directly seeks a 
second American to share it. If there be three, they elect 
a president and two secretaries. Given four, they name a 

547 


548 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

keeper of records, and the office is ready for work ; five, they 
convene a general meeting, and the club is fully constituted. 
So things were managed in Baltimore. The inventor of a 
new cannon associated himself with the caster and the 
borer. Thus was formed the nucleus of the “Gun Club.” In 
a single month after its formation it numbered 1,833 effec- 
tive members and 30,565 corresponding members. 

One condition was imposed as a sine qua non upon every 
candidate for admission into the association, and that was 
the condition of having designed, or (more or less) per- 
fected a cannon; or, in default of a cannon, at least a fire- 
arm of some description. It may, however, be mentioned that 
mere inventions of revolvers, five-shooting carbines, and 
similar small arms, met with but little consideration. Ar- 
tillerists always commanded the chief place of favor. 

The estimation in which these gentlemen were held, ac- 
cording to one of the most scientific exponents of the Gun 
Club, was “proportional to the masses of their guns, and 
in the direct ratio of the square of the distances attained 
by their projectiles.” 

The Gun Club once founded, it is easy to conceive the 
result of the inventive genius of the Americans. Their mili- 
tary weapons attained colossal proportions, and their pro- 
jectiles, exceeding the prescribed limits, unfortunately 
occasionally cut in two some unoffending pedestrians. These 
inventions, in fact, left far in the rear the timid instruments 
of European artillery. 

It is but fair to add that these Yankees, brave as they 
have ever proved themselves to be, did not confine them- 
selves to theories and formulae, but that they paid heavily, 
in propria persona^ for their inventions. Among them were 
to be counted officers of all ranks, from lieutenants to gen- 
erals; military men of every age, from those who were just 
making their dehut in the profession of arms up to those 
who had grown old on the gun-carriage. Many had found 
their rest on the field of battle whose names figured in the 
^‘Book of Honor” of the Gun Club ; and of those who made 
good their return the greater proportion bore the marks of 
their indisputable valor. Crutches, wooden legs, artificial 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 549 

arms, steel hooks, caoutchouc jaws, silver craniums, plati- 
num noses, were all to be found in the collection ; and it was 
calculated by the great statistician Pitcairn that through- 
out the Gun Club there was not quite one arm between four 
persons, and exactly two legs between six. 

Nevertheless, these valiant artillerists took no particular 
account of these little facts, and felt justly proud when the 
despatches of a battle returned the number of victims at ten- 
fold the quantity of the projectiles expended. 

One day, however — sad and melancholy day! — peace was 
signed between the survivors of the war; the thunder of 
the guns gradually ceased, the mortars were silent, the 
howitzers were muzzled for an indefinite period, the can- 
non, with muzzles depressed, were returned into the arsenal, 
the shot were repiled, all bloody reminiscences were effaced ; 
the cotton-plants grew luxuriantly in the well-manured 
fields, all mourning garments were laid aside, together with 
grief ; and the Gun Club was relegated to profound inac- 
tivity. 

Some few of the more advanced and inveterate theorists 
set themselves again to work upon calculations regarding 
the laws of projectiles. They reverted invariably to gigantic 
shells and howitzers of unparalleled caliber. Still in default 
of practical experience what was the value of mere theories ? 
Consequently, the clubrooms became deserted, the servants 
dozed in the antechambers, the newspapers grew mouldy on 
the tables, sounds of snoring came from dark corners, and 
the members of the Gun Club, erstwhile so noisy in their 
seances, were reduced to silence by this disastrous peace and 
gave themselves up wholly to dreams of a Platonic kind of 
artillery. 

‘‘This is horrible!” said Tom Hunter one evening, while 
rapidly carbonizing his wooden legs in the fireplace of the 
smoking-room ; “nothing to do ! nothing to look forward to I 
what a loathsome existence! When again shall the guns 
arouse us in the morning with their delightful reports?” 

“Those days are gone by,” said jolly Bilsby, trying to 
extend his missing arms. “It was delightful once upon a 
time ! One invented a gun, and hardly was it cast, when one 


550 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

hastened to try it in the face of the enemy! Then one re- 
turned to camp with a word of encouragement from Sher- 
man or a friendly shake of the hand from McClellan. But 
now the generals are gone back to their counters; and in 
place of projectiles, they despatch bales of cotton. By Jove, 
the future of gunnery in America is lost!” 

‘‘Ay! and no war in prospect!” continued the famous 
James T. Maston, scratching with his steel hook his gutta- 
percha cranium. “Not a cloud in the horizon! and that too 
at such a critical period in the progress of the science of 
artillery! Yes, gentlemen! I who address you have myself 
this very morning perfected a model (plan, section, eleva- 
tion, etc.) of a mortar destined to change all the conditions 
of warfare!” 

“No! is it possible.?” replied Tom Hunter, his thoughts 
reverting involuntarily to a former invention of the Hon. 
J. T. Maston, by which, at its first trial, he had succeeded 
in killing three hundred and thirty-seven people. 

“Fact!” replied he. “Still, what is the use of so many 
studies worked out, so many difficulties vanquished.? It’s 
mere waste of time! The New World seems to have made up 
its mind to live in peace ; and our bellicose Tribune predicts 
some approaching catastrophes arising out of this scandal- 
ous increase of population.” 

“Nevertheless,” replied Colonel Blomsberry, “they are 
always struggling in Europe to maintain the principle of 
nationalities.” 

“Well.?” 

“Well, there might be some field for enterprise down 
there ; and if they would accept our services ” 

“What are you dreaming of.?” screamed Bilsby; “work 
at gunnery for the benefit of foreigners.?” 

“That would be better than doing nothing here,” re- 
turned the colonel. 

“Quite so,” said J. T. Maston; “but still we need not 
dream of that expedient.” 

“And why not.?” demanded the colonel. 

“Because their ideas of progress in the Old World are 
contrary to our American habits of thought. Those fellows 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 551 

believe that one can’t become a general without having 
served first as an ensign; which is as much as to say that 
one can’t point a gun without having first cast it oneself !” 

“Ridiculous !” replied Tom Hunter, whittling with his 
bowie-knife the arms of his easy-chair; “but if that be the 
case there, all that is left for us is to plant tobacco and dis- 
till whale-oil.” 

“What!” roared J. T. Maston, “shall we not employ 
these remaining years of our life in perfecting firearms 
Shall there never be a fresh opportunity of trying the 
ranges of projectiles.^ Shall the air never again be lighted 
with the glare of our guns.? No international difficulty ever 
arise to enable us to declare war against some transatlantic 
power.? Shall not the French sink one of our steamers, or 
the English, in defiance of the rights of nations, hang a few 
of our countrymen.?” 

“No such luck,” replied Colonel Blomsberry; “nothing 
of the kind is likely to happen ; and even if it did, we should 
not profit by it. American susceptibility is fast declining, 
and we are all going to the dogs.” 

“It is too true,” replied J. T. Maston, with fresh violence ; 
“there are a thousand grounds for fighting, and yet we 
don’t fight. We save up our arms and legs for the benefit 
of nations who don’t know what to do with them! But stop 
—without going out of one’s way to find a cause for war — ■ 
did not North America once belong to the English?” 

“Undoubtedly,” replied Tom Hunter, stamping his 
crutch with fury. 

“Well, then,” replied J. T. Maston, “why should not 
England in her turn belong to the Americans?” 

“It would be but just and fair,” returned Colonel 
Blomsberry. 

“Go and propose it to the President of the United 
States,” cried J. T. Maston, “and see how he will receive 
you.” 

“Bah!” growled Bilsby between the four teeth which the 
war had left him; “that will never do!” 

“By Jove!” cried J. T. Maston, “he mustn’t count on 
my vote at the next election!” 


552 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 


“Nor on ours,” replied unanimously all the bellicose in- 
valids. 

“Meanwhile,” replied J. T. Maston, “allow me to say 
that, if I cannot get an opportunity to try my new mor- 
tars on a real field of battle, I shall say good-by to the 
members of the Gun Club, and go and bury myself in the 
prairies of Arkansas!” 

“In that case we will accompany you,” cried the others. 
Matters were in this unfortunate condition, and the club 
was threatened with approaching dissolution, when an un- 
expected circumstance occurred to prevent so deplorable a 
catastrophe. 

On the morrow after this conversation every member of 
the association received a sealed circular couched in the 
following terms : 

Baltimore, October 3. 

The president of the Gun Club has the honor to in- 
form his colleagues that, at the meeting of the 5th in- 
stant, he will bring before them a communication of an 
extremely interesting nature. He requests, therefore, that 
they will make it convenient to attend in accordance with 
the present invitation. Very cordially, 

Impey Barbicane, P.G.C. 


CHAPTER II 

PRESIDENT BARBICANe’s COMMUNICATION 

On the 5th of October, at eight p.m., a dense crowd 
pressed toward the saloons of the Gun Club at No. 21 
Union Square. All the members of the association resident 
in Baltimore attended the invitation of their president. As 
regards the corresponding members, notices were delivered 
by hundreds throughout the streets of the city, and, large 
as was the great hall, it was quite inadequate to accommo- 
date the crowd of savants. They overflowed into the adjoin- 
ing rooms, down the narrow passages, into the outer court- 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 553 

yards. There they ran against the vulgar herd who pressed 
up to the doors, each struggling to reach the front ranks, all 
eager to learn the nature of the important communication of 
President Barbicane; all pushing, squeezing, crushing with 
that perfect freedom of action which is peculiar to the 
masses when educated in ideas of “self-government.” 

On that evening a stranger who might have chanced to 
be in Baltimore could not have gained admission for love 
or money into the great hall. That was reserved exclusively 
for resident or corresponding members; no one else could 
possibly have obtained a place ; and the city magnates, 
municipal councilors, and “select men” were compelled to 
mingle with the mere townspeople in order to catch stray 
bits of news from the interior. 

Nevertheless the vast hall presented a curious spectacle. 
Its immense area was singularly adapted to the purpose. 
Lofty pillars formed of cannon, superposed upon huge 
mortars as a base, supported the fine ironwork of the arches, 
a perfect piece of cast-iron lacework. Trophies of blunder- 
buses, matchlocks, arquebuses, carbines, all kinds of fire- 
arms, ancient and modern, were picturesquely interlaced 
against the walls. The gas lit up in full glare myriads of 
revolvers grouped in the form of lustres, while groups of 
pistols, and candelabra formed of muskets bound together, 
completed this magnificent display of brilliance. Models of 
cannon, bronze castings, sights covered with dents, plates 
battered by the shots of the Gun Club, assortments of ram- 
mers and sponges, chaplets of shells, wreaths of projectiles, 
garlands of howitzers — in short, all the apparatus of the 
artillerist, enchanted the eye by this wonderful arrangement 
and induced a kind of belief that their real purpose was 
ornamental rather than deadly. 

At the further end of the saloon the president, assisted 
by four secretaries, occupied a large platform. His chair, 
supported by a carved gun-carriage, was modeled upon the 
ponderous proportions of a 32-inch mortar. It was pointed 
at an angle of ninety degrees, and suspended upon trun- 
cheons, so that the president could balance himself upon it as 
upon a rocking-chair, a very agreeable fact in the very hot 


554 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

weather. Upon the table (a huge iron plate supported upon 
six carronades) stood an inkstand of exquisite elegance, 
made of a beautifully chased Spanish piece, and a sonnette, 
which, when required, could give forth a report equal to that 
of a revolver. During violent debates this novel kind of bell 
scarcely sufficed to drown the clamor of these excitable 
artillerists. 

In front of the table benches arranged in zigzag form, 
like the circumvallations of a retrenchment, formed a suc- 
cession of bastions and curtains set apart for the use of the 
members of the club ; and on this especial evening one might 
say, “All the world was on the ramparts.” The president 
was sufficiently well known, however, for all to be assured 
that he would not put his colleagues to discomfort without 
some very strong motive. 

Impey Barbicane was a man of forty years of age, calm, 
cold, austere; of a singularly serious and self-contained 
demeanor, punctual as a chronometer, of imperturbable 
temper and immovable character; by no means chivalrous, 
yet adventurous withal, and always bringing practical ideas 
to bear upon the very rashest enterprises; an essentially 
New Englander, a Northern colonist, a descendant of the 
old anti-Stuart Roundheads, and the implacable enemy of 
the gentlemen of the South, those ancient cavaliers of the 
mother country. In a word, he was a Yankee to the 
backbone. 

Barbicane had made a large fortune as a timber mer- 
chant. Being nominated director of artillery during the 
war, he proved himself fertile in invention. Bold in his con- 
ceptions, he contributed powerfully to the progress of that 
arm and gave an immense impetus to experimental re- 
searches. 

He was a personage of the middle height, having, by a 
rare exception in the Gun Club, all his limbs complete. His 
strongly marked features seemed dravm by square and rule ; 
and if it be true that, in order to judge of a man’s char- 
acter one must look at his profile, Barbicane, so examined, 
exhibited the most certain indications of energy, audacity, 
and sang-froid. 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 555 

At this moment he was sitting in his armchair, silent, 
absorbed, lost in reflection, sheltered under his high-crowned 
hat — a kind of black silk cylinder which always seems firmly 
screwed upon the head of an American. 

Just when the deep-toned clock in the great hall struck 
eight, Barbicane, as if he had been set in motion by a 
spring, raised himself up. A profound silence ensued, and 
the speaker, in a somewhat emphatic tone of voice, com- 
menced as follows: 

“My brave colleagues, too long already a paralyzing 
peace has plunged the members of the Gun Club in deplor- 
able inactivity. After a period of years full of incidents we 
have been compelled to abandon our labors, and to stop 
short on the road of progress. I do not hesitate to state, 
baldly, that any war which should recall us to arms would 
be welcome!” (Tremendous applause!) “But war, gentle- 
men, is impossible under existing circumstances; and, how- 
ever we may desire it, many years may elapse before our 
cannon shall again thunder in the field of battle. We must 
make up our minds, then, to seek in another train of ideas 
some field for the activity which we all pine for.” 

The meeting felt that the president was now approach- 
ing the critical point, and redoubled their attention ac- 
cordingly. 

“For some months past, my brave colleagues,” continued 
Barbicane, “I have been asking myself whether, while con- 
fining ourselves to our own particular objects, we could not 
enter upon some grand experiment worthy of the nineteenth 
century ; and whether the progress of artillery science would 
not enable us to carry it out to a successful issue. I have 
been considering, working, calculating; and the result of 
my studies is the conviction that we are safe to succeed in 
an enterprise which to any other country would appear 
wholly impracticable. This project, the result of long elabo- 
ration, is the object of my present communication. It is 
worthy of yourselves, worthy of the antecedents of the Gun 
Club; and it cannot fail to make some noise in the world.” 

A thrill of excitement ran through the meeting. 


556 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

Barbicane, having by a rapid movement firmly fixed his 
hat upon his head, calmly continued his harangue: 

“There is no one among you, my brave colleagues, who 
has not seen the Moon, or, at least, heard speak of it. 
Don’t be surprised if I am about to discourse to you re- 
garding this Queen of the Night. It is perhaps reserved 
for us to become the Columbuses of this unknown world. 
Only enter into my plans, and second me with all your 
power, and I will lead you to its conquest, and its name 
shall be added to those of the thirty-six States which com- 
pose this Great Union.” 

“Three cheers for the Moon !” roared the Gun Club, with 
one voice. 

“The moon, gentlemen, has been carefully studied,” con- 
tinued Barbicane; “her mass, density, and weight; her con- 
stitution, motions, distance, as well as her place in the solar 
system, have all been exactly determined. Selenographic 
charts have been constructed with a perfection which equals, 
if it does not even surpass, that of our terrestrial maps. 
Photography has given us proofs of the incomparable 
beauty of our satellite ; in short, all is known regarding the 
moon which mathematical science, astronomy, geology, and 
optics can learn about her. But up to the present moment 
no direct communication has been established with her.” 

A violent movement of interest and surprise here greeted 
this remark of the speaker. 

“Permit me,” he continued, “to recount to you briefly 
how certain ardent spirits, starting on imaginary journeys, 
have penetrated the secrets of our satellite. In the seven- 
teenth century a certain David Fabricius boasted of having 
seen with his own eyes the inhabitants of the moon. In 1649 
a Frenchman, one Jean Baudoin, published a ‘Journey per- 
formed from the Earth to the Moon by Domingo Gon- 
zalez,’ a Spanish adventurer. At the same period Cyrano de 
Bergerac published that celebrated ‘Journeys in the Moon’ 
which met with such success in France. Somewhat later an- 
other Frenchman, named Fontenelle, wrote ‘The Plurality 
of Worlds,’ a chef-d'oeuvre of its time. About 1835 a small 
treatise, translated from the New York American, related 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 557 

how Sir J ohn Herschel, having* been despatched to the 
Cape of Good Hope for the purpose of making there some 
astronomical calculations, had, by means of a telescope 
brought to perfection by means of internal lighting, re- 
duced the apparent distance of the moon to eighty yards ! 
He then distinctly perceived caverns frequented by hippo- 
potami, green mountains bordered by golden lace-work, 
sheep with horns of ivory, a white species of deer and in- 
habitants with membranous wings, like bats. This brochure, 
the work of an American named Locke, had a great sale. 
But, to bring this rapid sketch to a close, I will only add 
that a certain Hans Pfaal, of Rotterdam, launching him- 
self in a balloon filled with a gas extracted from nitrogen, 
thirty-seven times lighter than hydrogen, reached the moon 
after a passage of nineteen hours. This journey, like all 
previous ones, was purely imaginary; still, it was the work 
of a popular American author — I mean Edgar Poe!” 

‘‘Cheers for Edgar Poe!” roared the assemblage, electri- 
fied by their president’s words. 

“I have now enumerated,” said Barbicane, “the experi- 
ments which I call purely paper ones, and wholly insufficient 
to establish serious relations with the Queen of Night. 
Nevertheless, I am bound to add that some practical 
geniuses have attempted to establish actual communication 
with her. Thus, a few days ago, a German geometrician 
proposed to send a scientific expedition to the steppes of 
Siberia. There, on those vast plains, they were to describe 
enormous geometric figures, drawn in characters of reflect- 
ing luminosity, among which was the proposition regarding 
the ‘square of the hypothenuse,’ commonly called the ‘Ass’s 
Bridge’ by the French. ‘Every intelligent being,’ said the 
geometrician, ‘must understand the scientific meaning of 
that figure. The Selenites, do they exist, will respond by a 
similar figure ; and, a communication being thus once estab- 
lished, it will be easy to form an alphabet which shall en- 
able us to converse with the inhabitants of the moon.’ So 
spoke the German geometrician; but his project was never 
put into practice, and up to the present day there is no bond 


558 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

in existence between the earth and her satellite. It is reserved 
for the practical genius of Americans to establish a com- 
munication with the sidereal world. The means of arriving 
thither are simple, easy, certain, infallible — and that is the 
purpose of my present proposal.” 

A storm of acclamations greeted these words. There was 
not a single person in the whole audience who was not over- 
come, carried away, lifted out of himself by the speaker’s 
words ! 

Long-continued applause resounded from all sides. 

As soon as the excitement had partially subsided, Barbi- 
cane resumed his speech in a somewhat graver voice. 

“You know,” said he, “what progress artillery science 
has made during the last few years, and what a degree of 
perfection firearms of every kind have reached. Moreover, 
you are well aware that, in general terms, the resisting 
power of cannon and the expansive force of gunpowder are 
practically unlimited. Well! starting from this principle, 
I ask myself whether, supposing sufficient apparatus could 
be obtained constructed upon the conditions of ascertained 
resistance, it might not be possible to project a shot up to 
the moon.^” 

At these words a murmur of amazement escaped from a 
thousand panting chests; then succeeded a moment of per- 
fect silence, resembling that profound stillness which pre- 
cedes the bursting of a thunderstorm. In point of fact, a 
thunderstorm did peal forth, but it was the thunder of ap- 
plause, of cries, and of uproar which made the very hall 
tremble. The president attempted to speak, but could not. 
It was fully ten minutes before he could make himself 
heard. 

“Suffer me to finish,” he calmly continued. “I have looked 
at the question in all its bearings, I have resolutely attacked 
it, and by incontrovertible calculations I find that a pro- 
jectile endowed with an initial velocity of 12,000 yards per 
second, and aimed at the moon, must necessarily reach it. 
I have the honor, my brave colleagues, to propose a trial 
of this little experiment.” 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 


559 


CHAPTER III 

• EFFECT OF THE PRESIDENT’S COMMUNICATION 

I T IS impossible to describe the effect produced by the last 
words of the honorable president — the cries, the shouts, the 
succession of roars, hurrahs, and all the varied vociferations 
which the American language is capable of supplying. It 
was a scene of indescribable confusion and uproar. They 
shouted, they clapped, they stamped on the floor of the hall. 
All the weapons in the museum discharged at once could not 
have more violently set in motion the waves of sound. One 
need not be surprised at this. There are some cannoneers 
nearly as noisy as their own guns. 

Barbicane remained calm in the midst of this enthusiastic 
clamor; perhaps he was desirous of addressing a few more 
words to his colleagues, for by his gestures he demanded 
silence, and his powerful alarum was worn out by its violent 
reports. No attention, however, was paid to his request. He 
was presently torn from his seat and passed from the hands 
of his faithful colleagues into the arms of a no less excited 
crowd. 

Nothing can astound an American. It has often been as- 
serted that the word “impossible” is not a French one. 
People have evidently been deceived by the dictionary. In 
America, all is easy, all is simple; and as for mechanical 
difiiculties, they are overcome before they arise. Between 
Barbicane’s proposition and its realization no true Yankee 
would have allowed even the semblance of a difficulty to be 
possible. A thing with them is no sooner said than done. 

The triumphal progress of the president continued 
throughout the evening. It was a regular torchlight pro- 
cession. Irish, Germans, French, Scotch, all the heterogene- 
ous units which make up the population of Maryland 
shouted in their respective vernaculars; and the “vivas,” 
“hurrahs,” and “bravos” were intermingled in inexpressible 
enthusiasm. 

Just at this crisis, as though she comprehended all this 
agitation regarding herself, the moon shone forth with 


560 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

serene splendor, eclipsing by her intense illuminatipn all 
the surrounding lights. The Yankees all turned their gaze 
toward her resplendent orb, kissed their hands, called her 
by all kinds of endearing names. Between eight o’clock and 
midnight one optician in Jones’-Fall Street made his fortune 
by the sale of opera-glasses. 

Midnight arrived, and the enthusiasm showed no signs 
of diminution. It spread equally among all classes of citi- 
zens — men of science, shopkeepers, merchants, porters, 
chair-men, as well as ‘‘greenhorns,” were stirred in their 
innermost fibres. A national enterprise was at stake. The 
whole city, high and low, the quays bordering the Patapsco, 
the ships lying in the basins, disgorged a crowd drunk with 
joy, gin, and whisky. Every one chattered, argued, dis- 
cussed, disputed, applauded, from the gentleman lounging 
upon the barroom settee with his tumbler of sherry-cobbler 
before him down to the waterman who got drunk upon his 
“knock-me-down” in the dingy taverns of Fell Point. 

About two A.M., however, the excitement began to sub^ 
side. President Barbicane reached his house, bruised, 
crushed, and squeezed almost to a mummy. Hercules could 
not have resisted a similar outbreak of enthusiasm. The 
crowd gradually deserted the squares and streets. The four 
railways from Philadelphia and Washington, Harrisburg 
and Wheeling, which converge at Baltimore, whirled away 
the heterogeneous population to the four corners of the 
United States, and the city subsided into comparative tran- 
quillity. 

On the following day, thanks to the telegraphic wires, 
five hundred newspapers and journals, daily, weekly, 
monthly, or bi-monthly, all took up the question. They ex- 
amined it under all its different aspects, physical, meteorolog- 
ical, economical, or moral, up to its bearings on politics 
or civilization. They debated whether the moon was a fin- 
ished world, or whether it was destined to undergo any 
further transformation. Did it resemble the earth at the 
period when the latter was destitute as yet of an atmosphere? 
What kind of spectacle would its hidden hemisphere present 
to our terrestrial spheroid Granting that the question at 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 561 

present was simply that of sending a projectile up to the 
moon, every one must see that that involved the commence- 
ment of a series of experiments. All must hope that some day 
America would penetrate the deepest secrets of that mys- 
terious orb; and some even seemed to fear lest its conquest 
should not sensibly derange the equilibrium of Europe. 

The project once under discussion, not a single para- 
graph suggested a doubt of its realization. All the papers, 
pamphlets, reports — all the journals published by the scien- 
tific, literary, and religious societies enlarged upon its ad- 
vantages; and the Society of Natural History of Boston, 
the Society of Science and Art of Albany, the Geographical 
and Statistical Society of New York, the Philosophical 
Society of Philadelphia, and the Smithsonian of Washing- 
ton sent innumerable letters of congratulation to the Gun 
Club, together with offers of immediate assistance and 
money. 

From that day forward Impey Barbicane became one of 
the greatest citizens of the United States, a kind of Wash- 
ington of science. A single trait of feeling, taken from many 
others, will serve to show the point which this homage of a 
whole people to a single individual attained. 

Some few days after this memorable meeting of the Gun 
Club, the manager of an English company announced, at 
the Baltimore theatre, the production of ‘‘Much ado about 
Nothing.” But the populace, seeing in that title an allusion 
damaging to Barbicane’s project, broke into the auditorium, 
smashed the benches, and compelled the unlucky director to 
alter his playbill. Being a sensible man, he bowed to the 
public will and replaced the offending comedy by “As you 
like it”; and for many weeks he realized fabulous profits. 


CHAPTER IV 

REPLY FROM THE OBSERVATORY OF CAMBRIDGE 

Barbicane, however, lost not one moment amid all the 
enthusiasm of which he had become the object. His first care 


562 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 


was to reassemble his colleagues in the board-room of the 
Gun Club. There, after some discussion, it was agreed to 
consult the astronomers regarding the astronomical part of 
the enterprise. Their reply once ascertained, they could then 
discuss the mechanical means, and nothing should be want- 
ing to ensure the success of this great experiment. 

A note couched in precise terms, containing special inter- 
rogatories, was then drawn up and addressed to the Ob- 
servatory of Cambridge in Massachusetts. This city, where 
the first university of the United States was founded, is 
justly celebrated for its astronomical staff. There are to be 
found assembled all the most eminent men of science. Here 
is to be seen at work that powerful telescope which enabled 
Bond to resolve the nebula of Andromeda, and Clarke to 
discover the satellite of Sirius. This celebrated institution 
fully justified on all points the confidence reposed in it by 
the Gun Club. So, after two days, the reply so impatiently 
awaited was placed in the hands of President Barbicane. 

It was couched in the following terms : 

The Director of the Cambridge Observatory to the Pres- 
dent of the Gun Club at Baltimore, 

Cambridge, October 7. 

On the receipt of your favor of the 6th instant, ad- 
dressed to the Observatory of Cambridge in the name of 
the members of the Baltimore Gun Club, our staff was 
immediately called together, and it was judged expedient 
to reply as follows: 

The questions which have been proposed to it are 
these — 

“1. Is it possible to transmit a projectile up to the 
moon ? 

“2. What is the exact distance which separates the 
earth from its satellite 

“3. What will be the period of transit of the projectile 
when endowed with sufficient initial velocity.? and, conse- 
quently, at what moment ought it to be discharged in 
order that it may touch the moon at a particular point? 

“4. At what precise moment will the moon present 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON o6S 

herself in the most favorable position to be reached by 
the projectile? 

“5. What point in the heavens ought the cannon to 
be aimed at which is intended to discharge the projectile? 

“6. What place will the moon occupy in the heavens 
at the moment of the projectile’s departure?” 

Regarding the first question, ‘‘Is it possible to trans- 
mit a projectile up to the moon?” 

Anszver. — Yes; provided it possess an initial velocity 
of 1,200 yards per second; calculations prove that to be 
sufficient. In proportion as we recede from the earth the 
action of gravitation diminishes in the inverse ratio of 
the square of the distance ; that is to say, at three times a 
given distance the action is nine times less. Consequently, 
the weight of a shot will decrease, and will become reduced 
to zero at the instant that the attraction of the moon 
exactly counterpoises that of the earth; that is to say, at 
47 . 

— of its passage. At that instant the projectile will have 
2o 

no weight whatever; and, if it passes that point, it will 
fall into the moon by the sole effect of the lunar attrac- 
tion. The theoretical possibility ’of the experiment is 
therefore absolutely demonstrated; its success must de- 
pend upon the power of the engine employed. 

As to the second question, “What is the exact distance 
which separates the earth from its satellite?” 

Answer. — The moon does not describe a circle round 
the earth, but rather an ellipse^ of which our earth occu- 
pies one of the foci ; the consequence, therefore, i^, that at 
certain times it approaches nearer to, and at others it 
recedes farther from, the earth ; in astronomical language, 
it is at one time in apogee, at another in perigee. Now the 
difference between its greatest and its least distance is too 
considerable to be left out of consideration. In point of 
fact, in its apogee the moon is 247,552 miles, and in its 
perigee, 218,657 miles only distant; a fact which makes 
a difference of 28,895 miles, or more than one-ninth of 
the entire distance. The perigee distance, therefore, is 
that which ought to serve as the basis of all calculations. 


564 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

To the third question. 

Ansxver. — If the shot should preserve continuously its 
initial velocity of 12,000 yards per second, it would re- 
quire little more than nine hours to reach its destination ; 
but, inasmuch as that initial velocity will be continually 
decreasing, it results that, taking everything into con- 
sideration, it will occupy 300,000 seconds, that is 83hrs. 
20m. in reaching the point where the attraction of the 
earth and moon will be in equilibrio. From this point it 
will fall into the moon in 50,000 seconds, or 13hrs. 53m. 
20sec. It will be desirable, therefore, to discharge it 97hrs. 
13m. 20sec. before the arrival of the moon at the point 
aimed at. 

Regarding question four, ‘‘At what precise moment 
will the moon present herself in the most favorable posi- 
tion, etc. 

Answer. — After what has been said above, it will be 
necessary, first of all, to choose the period when the 
moon will be in perigee, and also the moment when she 
will be crossing the zenith, which latter event will further 
diminish the entire distance by a length equal to the 
radius of the earth, i. e. 3,919 miles; the result of which 
will be that the final passage remaining to be accomplished 
will be 214,976 miles. But although the moon passes her 
perigee every month, she does not reach the zenith al- 
ways at exactly the same moment. She does not appear 
under these two conditions simultaneously, except at long 
intervals of time. It will be necessary, therefore, to wait 
for the moment when her passage in perigee shall coincide 
with that in the zenith. Now, by a fortunate circum- 
stance, on the 4th of December in the ensuing year the 
moon will present these two conditions. At midnight she 
will be in perigee, that is, at her shortest distance from 
the earth, and at the same moment she will be crossing 
the zenith. 

On the fifth question, “At what point in the heavens 
ought the cannon to be aimed 

Answer. — The preceding remarks being admitted, the 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 565 

cannon ought to be pointed to the zenith of the place. 
Its fire, therefore, will be perpendicular to the plane of 
the horizon; and the projectile will soonest pass beyond 
the range of the terrestrial attraction. But, in order that 
the moon should reach the zenith of a given place, it is 
necessary that the place should not exceed in latitude the 
declination of the luminary ; in other words, it must be 
comprised within the degrees 0° and 28° of lat. N. or S. 
In every other spot the fire must necessarily be oblique, 
which would seriously militate against the success of the 
experiment. 

As to the sixth question, “What place will the moon 
occupy in the heavens at the moment of the projectile’s 
departure ?” 

Answer . — ^At the moment when the projectile shall be 
discharged into space, the moon, which travels daily for- 
ward 18° 10' 85", will be distant from the zenith point 
by four times that quantity, i. e. by 52° 41' 20", a space 
which corresponds to the path which she will describe 
during the entire journey of the projectile. But, inas- 
much as it is equally necessary to take into account the 
deviation which the rotary motion of the earth will im- 
part to the shot, and as the shot cannot reach the moon 
until after a deviation equal to 16 radii of the earth, 
which, calculated upon the moon’s orbit, are equal to 
about eleven degrees, it becomes necessary to add these 
eleven degrees to those which express the retardation of 
the moon just mentioned: that is to say, in round num- 
bers, about sixty-four degrees. Consequently, at the mo- 
ment of firing the visual radius applied to the moon will 
describe, with the vertical line of the place, an angle of 
sixty-four degrees. 

These are our answers to the questions proposed to 
the Observatory of Cambridge by the members of the 
Gun Club: 

To sum up — 

1st. The cannon ought to be planted in a country 
situated between 0° and 28° of N. or S. lat. 


566 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

2d. It ought to be pointed directly toward the zenith 
of the place. 

3d. The projectile ought to be propelled with an 
initial velocity of 12,000 yards per second. 

4th. It ought to be discharged at lOhrs. 46m. 40sec. 
of the 1st of December of the ensuing year. 

5th. It will meet the moon four days after its dis- 
charge, precisely at midnight on the 4th of December, at 
the moment of its transit across the zenith. 

The members of the Gun Club ought, therefore, with- 
out delay, to commence the works necessary for such an 
experiment, and to be prepared to set to work at the 
moment determined upon; for, if they should suffer this 
4th of December to go by, they will not find the moon 
again under the same conditions of perigee and of zenith 
until eighteen years and eleven days afterward. 

The staff of the Cambridge Observatory place them- 
selves entirely at their disposal in respect of all questions 
of theoretical astronomy ; and herewith add their congrat- 
ulations to those of all the rest of America. 

For the Astronomical Staff, 

J. M. Belfast, 

Director of the Observatory of Cambridge, 


CHAPTER V 

THE ROMANCE OF THE MOON 

A N OBSERVER cndued with an infinite range of vision, and 
placed in that unknown center around which the entire world 
revolves, might have beheld myriads of atoms filling all 
space during the chaotic epoch of the universe. Little by 
little, as ages went on, a change took place; a general law 
of attraction manifested itself, to which the hitherto errant 
atoms became obedient : these atoms combined together 
chemically according to their affinities, formed themselves 
into molecules, and composed those nebulous masses with 
which the depths of the heavens are strewed. 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 567 

These masses became immediately endued with a rotary 
motion around their own central point. This center, formed 
of indefinite molecules, began to revolve round its own axis 
during its gradual condensation; then, following the im- 
mutable laws of mechanics, in proportion as its bulk dimin- 
ished by condensation, its rotary motion became accelerated, 
and these two effects continuing, the result was the forma- 
tion of one principal star, the center of the nebulous mass. 

By attentively watching, the observer would then have 
perceived the other molecules of the mass, following the 
example of this central star, become likewise condensed by 
gradually accelerated rotation, and gravitating round it in 
the shape of innumerable stars. Thus was formed the 
Nehidce, of which astronomers have reckoned up nearly 
5,000. 

Among these 5,000 nebulae there is one which has re- 
ceived the name of the Milky Way, and which contains 
eighteen millions of stars, each of which has become the 
center of a solar world. 

If the observer had then specially directed his attention 
to one of the more humble and less brilliant of these stellar 
bodies, a star of the fourth class, that which is arrogantly 
called the Sun, all the phenomena to which the formation of 
the Universe is to be ascribed would have been successively 
fulfilled before his eyes. In fact, he would have perceived 
this sun, as yet in the gaseous state, and composed of moving 
molecules, revolving round its axis in order to accomplish 
its work of concentration. This motion, faithful to the laws 
of mechanics, would have been accelerated with the diminu- 
tion of its volume; and a moment would have arrived when 
the centrifugal force would have overpowered the centri- 
petal, which causes the molecules all to tend toward the 
center. 

Another phenomenon would nov/ have passed before the 
observer’s eye, and the molecules situated on the plane of 
the equator, escaping like a stone from a sling of which the 
cord had suddenly snapped, would have formed around the 
sun sundry concentric rings resembling that of Saturn. In 
their turn, again, these rings of cosmical matter, excited by 


568 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

a rotary motion round the central mass, would have been 
broken up and decomposed into secondary nebulosities, that 
is to say, into planets. Similarly he would have observed 
these planets throw off one or more rings each, which became 
the origin of the secondary bodies which we call satellites. 

Thus, then, advancing from atom to molecule, from 
molecule to nebulous mass, from that to a principal star, 
from star to sun, from sun to planet, and hence to satellite, 
we have the whole series of transformations undergone by 
the heavenly bodies during the first days of the world. 

Now, of those attendant bodies which the sun maintains 
in their elliptical orbits by the great law of gravitation, some 
few in their turn possess satellites. Uranus has eight, Saturn 
eight, Jupiter four, Neptune possibly three, and the Earth 
one. This last, one of the least important of the entire solar 
system, we call the Moon; and it is she whom the daring 
genius of the Americans professed their intention of con- 
quering. 

The moon, by her comparative proximity, and the con- 
stantly varying appearances produced by her several phases, 
has always occupied a considerable share of the attention of 
the inhabitants of the earth. 

From the time of Thales of Miletus, in the fifth century 
B.C., down to that of Copernicus in the fifteenth and Tycho 
Brahe in the sixteenth century a.d., observations have been 
from time to time carried on with more or less correctness, 
until in the present day the altitudes of the lunar moun- 
tains have been determined with exactitude. Galileo ex- 
plained the phenomena of the lunar light produced during 
certain of her phases by the existence of mountains, to which 
he assigned a mean altitude of 27,000 feet. After him 
Hevelius, an astronomer of Dantzic, reduced the highest 
elevations to 15,000 feet; but the calculations of Riccioli 
brought them up again to 21,000 feet. 

At the close of the eighteenth century Herschel, armed 
with a powerful telescope, considerably reduced the pre- 
ceding measurements. He assigned a height of 11,400 feet 
to the maximum elevations, and reduced the mean of the 
different altitudes to little more than 2,400 feet. But 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 569 

Herschel’s calculations were in their turn corrected by the 
observations of Halley, Nasmyth, Bianchini, Gruithuysen, 
and others ; but it was reserved for the labors of Boeer and 
Maedler finally to solve the question. They succeeded in 
measuring 1,905 different elevations, of which six exceed 
15,000 feet, and twenty -two exceed 14,400 feet. The highest 
mmmit of all towers to a height of 22,606 feet above the 
surface of the lunar disc. At the same period the examina- 
tion of the moon was completed. She appeared completely 
riddled with craters, and her essentially volcanic character 
was apparent at each observation. By the absence of refrac- 
tion in the rays of the planets occulted by her we conclude 
that she is absolutely devoid of an atmosphere. The absence 
of air entails the absence of water. It became, therefore, 
manifest that the Selenites, to support life under such con- 
ditions, must possess a special organization of their own, 
must differ remarkably from the inhabitants of the earth. 

At length, thanks to modem art, instruments of still 
higher perfection searched the moon without intermission, 
not leaving a single point of her surface unexplored; and 
notwithstanding that her diameter measures 2,150 miles, her 
surface equals the one-fifteenth part of that of our globe, 
and her bulk the one-forty-ninth part of that of the ter- 
restrial spheroid — not one of her secrets was able to escape 
the eyes of the astronomers ; and these skillful men of science 
carried to even greater degree their prodigious observations. 

Thus they remarked that, during full moon, the disc 
appeared scored in certain parts with white lines ; and, dur- 
ing the phases, with black. On prosecuting the study of these 
with still greater precision, they succeeded in obtaining an 
exact account of the nature of these lines. They were long 
and narrow furrows sunk between parallel ridges, bordering 
generally upon the edges of the craters. Their length varied 
between ten and 100 miles, and their width was about 1,600 
yards. Astronomers called them chasms, but they could not 
get any further. Whether these chasms were the dried-up 
beds of ancient rivers or not they were unable thoroughly to 
ascertain. 

The Americans, among others, hoped one day or other to 


570 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

determine this geological question. They also undertook to 
examine the true nature of that system of parallel ramparts 
discovered on the moon’s surface by Gruithuysen, a learned 
professor of Munich, who considered them to be ‘‘a system 
of fortifications thrown up by the Selenitic engineers.” 
These two points, yet obscure, as well as others, no doubt, 
could not be definitely settled , except by direct communica- 
tion with the moon. 

Regarding the degree of intensity of its light, there was 
nothing more to learn on this point. It was known that it is 
300,000 times weaker than that of the sun, and that its heat 
has no appreciable effect upon the thermometer. As to the 
phenomenon known as the ‘^ashy light,” it is explained 
naturally by the effect of the transmission of the solar rays 
from the earth to the moon, which give the appearance of 
completeness to the lunar disc, while it presents itself under 
the crescent form during its first and last phases. 

Such was the state of knowledge acquired regarding the 
earth’s satellite, which the Gun Club undertook to perfect in 
all its aspects, cosmographic, geological, political, and 
moral. 


CHAPTER VI 

THE PERMISSIVE LIMITS OF IGNORANCE AND BELIEF IN THE 
UNITED STATES 

TT HE immediate result of Barbicane’s proposition was to 
place upon the orders of the day all the astronomical facts 
relative to the Queen of Night. Everybody set to work to 
study assiduously. One would have thought that the moon 
had just appeared for the first time, and that no one had 
ever before caught a glimpse of her in the heavens. The 
papers revived all the old anecdotes in which the “sun of 
the wolves” played a part ; they recalled the influences which 
the ignorance of past ages ascribed to her; in short, all 
America was seized with selenomania, or had become moon- 
mad. 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 571 

The scientific journals, for their part, dealt more es- 
pecially with the questions which touched upon the enter- 
prise of the Gun Club. The letter of the Observatory of 
Cambridge was published by them, and commented upon 
with unreserved approval. 

Until that time most people had been ignorant of the 
mode in which the distance which separates the moon from 
the earth is calculated. They took advantage of this fact to 
explain to them that this distance was obtained by measur- 
ing the parallax of the moon. The term parallax proving 
‘‘caviare to the general,” they further explained that it 
meant the angle formed by the inclination of two straight 
lines drawn from either extremity of the earth’s radius to 
the moon. On doubts being expressed as to the correctness of 
this method, they immediately proved that not only was the 
mean distance 234,347 miles, but that astronomers could not 
possibly be in error in their estimate by more than seventy 
miles either w^ay. 

To those who were not familiar with the motions of the 
moon, they demonstrated that she possesses two distinct mo- 
tions, the first being that of rotation upon her axis, the 
second that of revolution round the earth, accomplishing 
both together in an equal period of time, that is to say, in 
twenty-seven and one-third days. 

The motion of rotation is that which produces day and 
night on the surface of the moon; save that there is only 
one day and one night in the lunar month, each lasting 
three hundred and fifty-four and one-third hours. But, hap- 
pily for her, the face turned toward the terrestrial globe is 
illuminated by it with an intensity equal to the light of four- 
teen moons. As to the other face, always invisible to us, it 
has of necessity three hundred and fifty-four hours of abso- 
lute night, tempered only by that “pale glimmer which falls 
upon it from the stars.” 

Some well-intentioned, but rather obstinate persons, could 
not at first comprehend how, if the moon displays invariably 
the same face to the earth during her revolution, she can 
describe one turn round herself. To such they answered, “Go 
into your dining-room, and walk round the table in such a 


572 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

way as always to keep your face turned toward the center ; 
by the time you will have achieved one complete round you 
will have completed one turn round yourself, since your eye 
will have traversed successively every point of the room. 
Well, then, the room is the heavens, the table is the earth, 
and the moon is yourself.” And they would go away de- 
lighted. 

So, then, the moon displays invariably the same face to 
the earth; nevertheless, to be quite exact, it is necessary to 
add that, in consequence of certain fluctuations of north and 
south, and of west and east, termed her libration, she per- 
mits rather more than the half, that is to say, five-sevenths, 
to be seen. 

As soon as the ignoramuses came to understand as much 
as the director of the observatory himself knew, they began 
to worry themselves regarding her revolution round the 
earth, whereupon twenty scientific reviews immediately came 
to the rescue. They pointed out to them then that the firma- 
ment, with its infinitude of stars, may be considered as one 
vast dial-plate, upon which the moon travels, indicating the 
true time to all the inhabitants of the earth ; that it is during 
this movement that the Queen of Night exhibits her different 
phases ; that the moon is full when she is in opposition with 
the sun, that is, when the three bodies are on the same 
straight line, the earth occupying the center ; that she is 
new when she is in conjunction with the sun, that is, when 
she is between it and the earth; and lastly, that she is in 
her first or last quarter, when she makes with the sun and 
the earth an angle of which she herself occupies the apex. 

Regarding the altitude which the moon attains above the 
horizon, the letter of the Cambridge Observatory had said 
all that was to be said in that respect. Every one knew that 
this altitude varies according to the latitude of the observer. 
But the only zones of the globe in which the moon passes the 
zenith, that is, the point directly over the head of the spec- 
tator, are of necessity comprised between the twenty-eighth 
parallels and the equator. Hence the importance of the ad- 
vice to try the experiment upon some point of that part of 
the globe, in order that the projectile might be discharged 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 573 

perpendicularly, and so the soonest escape the action of 
gravitation. This was an essential condition to the success 
of the enterprise, and continued actively to engage the 
public attention. 

Regarding the path described by the moon in her revo- 
lution round the earth, the Cambridge Observatory had 
demonstrated that this path is a re-entering curve, not a per- 
fect circle, but an ellipse, of which the earth occupies one of 
the foci. It was also well understood that it is farthest re- 
moved from the earth during its apogee, and approaches 
most nearly to it at its perigee. 

Such then was the extent of knowledge possessed by every 
American on the subject, and of which no one could de- 
cently profess ignorance. Still, while these true principles 
were being rapidly disseminated many errors and illusory 
fears proved less easy to eradicate. 

For instance, some worthy persons maintained that the 
moon was an ancient comet which, in describing its elongated 
orbit round the sun, happened to pass near the earth, and 
became confined within her circle of attraction. These draw- 
ing-room astronomers professed so to explain the charred 
aspect of the moon — a disaster which they attributed to the 
intensity of the solar heat; only, on being reminded that 
comets have an atmosphere, and that the moon has little or 
none, they were fairly at a loss for a reply. 

Others again, belonging to the doubting class, expressed 
certain fears as to the position of the moon. They had heard 
it said that, according to observations made in the time of 
the Caliphs, her revolution had become accelerated in a cer- 
tain degree. Hence they concluded, logically enough, that 
an acceleration of motion ought to be accompanied by a 
corresponding diminution in the distance separating the two 
bodies ; and that, supposing the double effect to be continued 
to infinity, the moon would end by one day falling into the 
earth. However, they became reassured as to the fate of 
future generations on being apprised that, according to the 
calculations of Laplace, this acceleration of motion is con- 
fined within very restricted limits, and that a proportional 
diminution of speed will be certain to succeed it. So, then. 


574 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

the stability of the solar system would not be deranged in 
ages to come. 

There remains but the third class, the superstitious. These 
worthies were not content merely to rest in ignorance; they 
must know all about things which had no existence what- 
ever, and as to the moon, they had long known all about her. 
One set regarded her disc as a polished mirror, by means of 
which people could see each other from different points of 
the earth and interchange their thoughts. Another set pre- 
tended that out of one thousand new moons that had been 
observed, nine hundred and fifty had been attended with 
remarkable disturbances, such as cataclysms, revolutions, 
earthquakes, the deluge, etc. Then they believed in some 
mysterious influence exercised by her over human destinies 
— that every Selenite was attached to some inhabitant of 
the earth by a tie of sympathy; they maintained that the 
entire vital system is subject to her control, etc. But in time 
the majority renounced these vulgar errors, and espoused 
the true side of the question. As for the Yankees, they had 
no other ambition than to take possession of this new con- 
tinent of the sky, and to plant upon the summit of its high- 
est elevation the star-spangled banner of the United States 
of America. 


CHAPTER VII 

THE HYMN OF THE CANNON-BALL 

T HE Observatory of Cambridge in its memorable letter had 
treated the question from a purely astronomical point of 
view. The mechanical part still remained. 

President Barbicane had, without loss of time, nominated 
a working committee of the Gun Club. The duty of this 
committee was to resolve the three grand questions of the 
cannon, the projectile, and the powder. It was composed of 
four members of great technical knowledge, Barbicane (with 
a casting vote in case of equality). General Morgan, Major 
Elphinstone, and J. T. Maston, to whom were confided the 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 575 

functions of secretary. On the 8th of October the committee 
met at the house of President Barbicane, S Republican 
Street. The meeting was opened by the president himself. 

“Gentlemen,” said he, “we have to resolve one of the 
most important problems in the whole of the noble science 
of gunnery. It might appear, perhaps, the most logical 
course to devote our first meeting to the discussion of the 
engine to be employed. Nevertheless, after mature consid- 
eration, it has appeared to me that the question of the 
projectile must take precedence of that of the cannon, and 
that the dimensions of the latter must necessarily depend 
upon those of the former.” 

“Suffer me to say a word,” here broke in J. T. Maston. 
Permission having been granted, “Gentlemen,” said he with 
an inspired accent, “our president is right in placing the 
question of the projectile above all others. The ball we are 
about to discharge at the moon is our ambassador to her, 
and I wish to consider it from a moral point of view. The 
cannon-ball, gentlemen, to my mind, is the most magnificent 
manifestation of human power. If Providence has created 
the stars and the planets, man has called the cannon-ball 
into existence. Let Providence claim the swiftness of electric- 
ity and of light, of the stars, the comets, and the planets, of 
wind and sound — we claim to have invented the swiftness 
of the cannon-ball, a hundred times superior to that of the 
swiftest horses or railway train. How glorious will be the 
moment when, infinitely exceeding all hitherto attained ve- 
locities, we shall launch our new projectile with the rapidity 
of seven miles a second! Shall it not, gentlemen — shall it 
not be received up there with the honors due to a terrestrial 
ambassador.?” 

Overcome with emotion the orator sat down and applied 
himself to a huge plate of sandwiches before him. 

“And now,” said Barbicane, “let us quit the domain of 
poetry and come direct to the question.” 

“By all means,” replied the members, each with his mouth 
full of sandwich. 

“The problem before us,” continued the president, “is 
how to communicate to a projectile a velocity of 12,000 


576 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

yards per second. Let us at present examine the velocities 
hitherto attained. General Morgan will be able to enlighten 
us on this point.” 

“And the more easily,” replied the general, “that during 
the war I was a member of the committee of experiments. 
I may say, then, that the 100-pounder Dahlgrens, which 
carried a distance of 5,000 yards, impressed upon their pro- 
jectile an initial velocity of 500 yards a second. The Rod- 
man Columbiad threw a shot weighing half a ton a distance 
of six miles, with a velocity of 800 yards per second — a 
result which Armstrong and Palisser have never obtained in 
England.” 

“This,” replied Barbicane, “is, I believe, the maximum 
velocity ever attained.?” 

“It is so,” replied the general. 

“Ah!” groaned J. T. Maston, “if my mortar had not 
burst ” 

“Yes,” quietly replied Barbicane, “but it did burst. We 
must take, then, for our starting point, this velocity of 800 
yards. We must increase it twenty-fold. Now, reserving for 
another discussion the means of producing this velocity, 
I will call your attention to the dimensions which it will 
be proper to assign to the shot. You understand that we 
have nothing to do here with projectiles weighing at most 
but half a ton.” 

“Why not?” demanded the major. 

“Because the shot,” quickly replied J. T. Maston, “must 
be big enough to attract the attention of the inhabitants of 
the moon, if there are any?” 

“Yes,” replied Barbicane, “and for another reason more 
important still.” 

“What mean you?” asked the major. 

“I mean that it is not enough to discharge a projectile, 
and then take no further notice of it; we must follow it 
throughout its course, up to the moment when it shall reach 
its goal.” 

“What?” shouted the general and the major in great 
surprise. 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 


577 


^‘Undoubtedly,” replied Barbicane composedly, “or our 
experiment would produce no result.” 

“But then,” replied the major, “you will have to give 
this projectile enormous dimensions.” 

“No! Be so good as to listen. You know that optical 
instruments have acquired great perfection ; with certain 
telescopes we have succeeded in obtaining enlargements of 
6,000 times and reducing the moon to within forty miles’ 
distance. Now, at this distance, any objects sixty feet square 
would be perfectly visible. 

“If, then, the penetrative power of telescopes has not 
been further increased, it is because that power detracts 
from their light; and the moon, which is but a reflecting 
mirror, does not give back sufficient light to enable us to 
perceive objects of lesser magnitude.” 

“Well, then, what do you propose to do.^” asked the gen- 
eral. “Would you give your projectile a diameter of sixty 
feet.?” 

“Not so.” 

“Do you intend, then, to increase the luminous power of 
the moon.?” 

“Exactly so. If I can succeed in diminishing the density 
of the atmosphere through which the moon’s light has to 
travel I shall have rendered her light more intense. To effect 
that object it will be enough to establish a telescope on some 
elevated mountain. That is what we will do.” 

“I give it up,” answered the major. “You have such a 
way of simplifying things. And what enlargement do you 
expect to obtain in this way.?” 

“One of 48,000 times, which should bring the moon within 
an apparent distance of five miles ; and, in order to be visible, 
objects need not have a diameter of more than nine feet.” 

“So, then,” cried J. T. Maston, “our projectile need not 
be more than nine feet in diameter.” 

“Let me observe, however,” interrupted Major Elphin- 
stone, “this will involve a weight such as ” 

“My dear major,” replied Barbicane, “before discussing 
its weight permit me to enumerate some of the marvels which 
our ancestors have achieved in this respect. I don’t mean 


578 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

to pretend that the science of gunnery has not advanced, but 
it is as well to bear in mind that during the middle ages 
they obtained results more surprising, I will venture to say, 
than ours. For instance, during the siege of Constantinople 
by Mahomet II., in 1458, stone shot of 1,900 pounds weight 
were employed. At Malta, in the time of the knights, there 
was a gun of the fortress of St. Elmo which threw a pro- 
jectile weighing 2,500 pounds. And, now, what is the extent 
of what we have seen ourselves.? Armstrong guns discharg- 
ing shot of 500 pounds, and the Rodman guns projectiles 
of half a ton! It seems, then, that if projectiles have gained 
in range, they have lost far more in weight. Now, if we 
turn our efforts in that direction, we ought to arrive, with 
the progress of science, at ten times the weight of the shot 
of Mahomet II. and the Knights of Malta.” 

“Clearly,” replied the major; “but what metal do you cal- 
culate upon employing.?” 

“Simply cast iron,” said General Morgan. 

“But,” interrupted the major, “since the weight of a shot 
is proportionate to its volume, an iron ball of nine feet in 
diameter would be of tremendous weight.” 

“Yes, if it were solid, not if it were hollow.” 

“Hollow.? then it would be a shell.?” 

“Yes, a shell,” replied Barbicane; “decidedly it must be. 
A solid shot of 108 inches would weigh more than 200,000 
pounds, a weight evidently far too great. Still, as we must 
reserve a certain stability for our projectile, I propose to 
give it a weight of 20,000 pounds.” 

“What, then, will be the thickness of the sides.?” asked 
the major. 

“If we follow the usual proportion,” replied Morgan, 
“a diameter of 108 inches would require sides of two feet 
thickness, or less.” 

“That would be too much,” replied Barbicane; “for you 
will observe that the question is not that of a shot intended 
to pierce an iron plate; it will suffice, therefore, to give it 
sides strong enough to resist the pressure of the gas. The 
problem, therefore, is this — ^What thickness ought a cast- 
iron shell to have in order not to weigh more than 20,000 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 579 

pounds? Our clever secretary will soon enlighten us upon 
this point.” 

“Nothing easier,” replied the worthy secretary of the 
committee ; and, rapidly tracing a few algebraical formulae 
upon paper, among which and frequently appeared, he 
presently said: 

“The sides will require a thickness of less than two inches.” 

“Will that be enough?” asked the major doubtfully. 

“Clearly not !” replied the president. 

“What is to be done, then?” said Elphinstone, with a 
puzzled air. 

“Employ another metal instead of iron.” 

“Copper?” said Morgan. 

“No! that would be too heavy. I have better than that 
to offer.” 

“What then?” asked the major. 

“Aluminum I” replied Barbicane. 

“Aluminum?” cried his three colleagues in chorus. 

“Unquestionably, my friends. This valuable metal pos- 
sesses the whiteness of silver, the indestructibility of gold, 
the tenacity of iron, the fusibility of copper, the lightness 
of glass. It is easily wrought, is very widely distributed, 
forming the base of most of the rocks, is three times lighter 
than iron, and seems to have been created for the express 
purpose of furnishing us with the material for our pro- 
jectile.” 

“But, my dear president,” said the major, “is not the 
cost price of aluminum extremely high?” 

“It was so at its first discovery, but it has fallen now to 
nine dollars the pound.” 

“But still, nine dollars the pound!” replied the major, 
who was not willing readily to give in; “even that is an 
enormous price.” 

“Undoubtedly, my dear major; but not beyond our 
reach.” 

“What will the projectile weigh then?” asked Morgan. 

“Here is the result of my calculations,” replied Barbicane. 
“A shot of 108 inches in diameter, and twelve inches in 


580 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

thickness, would weigh, in cast-iron, 67,440 pounds; cast in 
aluminum, its weight will be reduced to 19,250 pounds.” 
“Capital!” cried the major; “but do you know that, at 

nine dollars the pound, this projectile will cost ” 

“One hundred and seventy-three thousand and fifty dol- 
lars ($178,050). I know it quite well. But fear not, my 
friends ; the money will not be wanting for our enterprise, 
I will answer for it. Now what say you to aluminum, gentle- 
men .?” 

“Adopted!” replied the three members of the committee. 
So ended the first meeting. The question of the projectile 
was definitively settled. 


CHAPTER VIII 

HISTORY OF THE CANNON 

The resolutions passed at the last meeting produced a 
great effect out of doors. Timid people took fright at the 
idea of a shot weighing 20,000 pounds being launched into 
space; they asked what cannon could ever transmit a suf- 
ficient velocity to such a mighty mass. The minutes of the 
second meeting were destined triumphantly to answer such 
questions. The following evening the discussion was renewed. 

“My dear colleagues,” said Barbicane, without further 
preamble, “the subject now before us is the construction 
of the engine, its length, its composition, and its weight. 
It is probable that we shall end by giving it gigantic dimen- 
sions ; but however great may be the difficulties in the way, 
our mechanical genius will readily surmount them. Be good 
enough, then, to give me your attention, and do not hesi- 
tate to make objections at the close. I have no fear of them. 
The problem before us is how to communicate an initial 
force of 12,000 yards per second to a shell of 108 inches in 
diameter, weighing 20,000 pounds. Now when a projectile is 
launched into space, what happens to it? It is acted upon 
by three independent forces: the resistance of the air, the 
attraction of the earth, and the force of impulsion with 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 581 

which it is endowed. Let us examine these three forces. The 
resistance of the air is of little importance. The atmosphere 
of the earth does not exceed forty miles. Now, with the given 
rapidity, the projectile will have traversed this in five sec- 
onds, and the period is too brief for the resistance of the 
medium to be regarded otherwise than as insignificant. Pro- 
ceeding, then, to the attraction of the earth, that is, the 
weight of the shell, we know that this weight will diminish in 
the inverse ratio of the square of the distance. When a body 
left to itself falls to the surface of the earth, it falls five 
feet in the first second ; and if the same body were removed 
257,542 miles farther off, in other words, to the distance 
of the moon, its fall would be reduced to about half a line in 
the first second. That is almost equivalent to a state of per- 
fect rest. Our business, then, is to overcome progressively 
this action of gravitation. The mode of accomplishing that 
is by the force of impulsion.” 

‘‘There’s the difficulty,” broke in the major. 

“True,” replied the president; “but we will overcome 
that, for this force of impulsion will depend upon the length 
of the engine and the powder employed, the latter being 
limited only by the resisting power of the former. Our busi- 
ness, then, to-day is with the dimensions of the cannon.” 

“Now, up to the present time,” said Barbicane, “our 
longest guns have not exceeded twenty-five feet in length. 
We shall therefore astonish the world by the dimensions we 
shall be obliged to adopt. It must evidently be, then, a 
gun of great range, since the length of the piece will increase 
the detention of the gas accumulated behind the projectile; 
but there is no advantage in passing certain limits.” 

“Quite so,” said the major. “What is the rule in such a 
case.P” 

“Ordinarily the length of a gun is twenty to twenty-five 
times the diameter of the shot, and its weight two hundred 
and thirty-five to two hundred and forty times that of the 
shot.” 

“That is not enough,” cried J. T. Maston impetuously. 

“I agree with you, my good friend; and, in fact, follow- 
ing this proportion for a projectile nine feet in diameter. 


58^ FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

weighing 30,000 pounds, the gun would only have a length 
of two hundred and twenty-five feet, and a weight of 7,200,- 
000 pounds.” 

‘‘Ridiculous!” rejoined Maston. “As well take a pistol.” 

“I think so too,” replied Barbicane; “that is why I pro- 
pose to quadruple that length, and to construct a gun of 
nine hundred feet.” 

The general and the major offered some objections; nev- 
ertheless, the proposition, actively supported by the secre- 
tary, was definitely adopted. 

“But,” said Elphinstone, “what thickness must we give 
it.?” 

“A thickness of six feet,” replied Barbicane. 

“You surely don’t think of mounting a mass like that 
upon a carriage.?” asked the major. 

“It would be a superb idea, though,” said Maston. 

“But impracticable,” replied Barbicane. “No; I think 
of sinking this engine in the earth alone, binding it with 
hoops of wrought iron, and finally surrounding it wifli a 
thick mass of masonry of stone and cement. The piece once 
cast, it must be bored with great precision, so as to preclude 
any possible windage. So there will be no loss whatever of 
gas, and all the expansive force of the powder will be em- 
ployed in the propulsion.” 

“One simple question,” said Elphinstone: “is our ffun to 
be rifled.?” 

“No, certainly not,” replied Barbicane; “we require an 
enormous initial velocity; and you are well aware that a 
shot quits a rifled gun less rapidly than it does a smooth- 
bore.” 

“True,’^ rejoined the major. 

The committee here adjourned for a few minutes to tea 
and sandwiches. 

On the discussion being renewed, “Gentlemen,” said Bar- 
bicane, “we must now take into consideration the metal to 
be employed. Our cannon must be possessed of great tenac- 
ity, great hardness, be infusible by heat, indissoluble, and in- 
oxidable by the corrosive action of acids.” 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 583 

‘‘There is no doubt about that,” replied the major; “and 
as we shall have to employ an immense quantity of metah 
we shall not be at a loss for choice.” 

“Well, then,” said Morgan, “I propose the best alloy 
hitherto knowm, which consists of one hundred parts of 
copper, twelve of tin, and six of brass.” 

“I admit,” replied the president, “that this composition 
has yielded excellent results, but in the present case it would 
be too expensive, and very difficult to work. I think, then, 
that we ought to adopt a material excellent in its way and 
of low price, such as cast iron. What is your advice, major?” 

“I quite agree with you,” replied Elphinstone. 

“In fact,” continued Barbicane, “cast iron costs ten times 
less than bronze ; it is easy to cast, it runs readily from the 
moulds of sand, it is easy of manipulation, it is at once 
economical of money and of time. In addition, it is excellent 
as a material, and I well remember that during the war, at 
the siege of Atlanta, some iron guns fired one thousand 
rounds at intervals of twenty minutes without injury.” 

“Cast iron is very brittle, though,” replied Morgan. 

“Yes, but it possesses great resistance. I will now ask our 
worthy secretary to calculate the weight of a cast-iron gun 
with a bore of nine feet and a thickness of six feet of metal.” 

“In a moment,” replied Maston. Then, dashing off some 
algebraical formulae with marvelous facility, in a minute 
or two he declared the following result : 

“The cannon will weigh 68,040 tons. And, at two cents 
a pound, it will cost ” 

“Two million five hundred and ten thousand seven hun- 
dred and one dollars.” 

Maston, the major, and the general regarded Barbicane 
with uneasy looks. 

“Well, gentlemen,” replied the president, “I repeat what 
I said yesterday. Make yourselves easy ; the millions will not 
be wanting.” 

With this assurance of their president the committee 
separated, after having fixed their third meeting for the 
following evening. 


584 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 


CHAPTER IX 

THE aUESTION OF THE POWDERS 

T HERE remained for consideration merely the question of 
powders. The public awaited with interest its final decision. 
The size of the projectile, the length of the cannon being 
settled, what would be the quantity of powder necessary to 
produce impulsion ^ 

It is generally asserted that gunpowder was invented in 
the fourteenth century by the monk Schwartz, who paid for 
his grand discovery with his life. It is, however, pretty well 
proved that this story ought to be ranked among the legends 
of the middle ages. Gunpowder was not invented by any 
one ; it was the lineal successor of the Greek fire, which, like 
itself, was composed of sulphur and saltpeter. Few persons 
are acquainted with the mechanical power of gunpowder. 
Now this is precisely what is necessary to be understood in 
order to comprehend the importance of the question sub- 
mitted to the committee. 

A litre of gunpowder weighs about two pounds; during 
combustion it produces 400 litres of gas. This gas, on being 
liberated and acted upon by temperature raised to 2,400 
degrees, occupies a space of 4,000 litres: consequently the 
volume of powder is to the volume of gas produced by its 
combustion as 1 to 4,000. One may judge, therefore, of the 
tremendous pressure on this gas when compressed within a 
space 4,000 times too confined. All this was, of course, well 
known to the members of the committee when they met on 
the following evening. 

The first speaker on this occasion was Major Elphin- 
stone, who had been the director of the gunpowder factories 
during the war. 

“Gentlemen,” said this distinguished chemist, “I begin 
with some figures which will serve as the basis of our calcula- 
tion. The old 24-pounder shot required for its discharge 
sixteen pounds of powder.” 

“You are certain of the amount broke in Barbicane. 

“Quite certain,” replied the major. “The Armstrong can- 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 585 

non employs only seventy-five pounds of powder for a pro- 
jectile of eight hundred pounds, and the Rodman Columbiad 
uses only one hundred and sixty pounds of powder to send 
its half-ton shot a distance of six miles. These facts cannot 
be called in question, for I myself raised the point during 
the depositions taken before the committee of artillery.” 

“Quite true,” said the general. 

“Well,” replied the major, “these figures go to prove 
that the quantity of powder is not increased with the weight 
of the shot ; that is to say, if a 24-pounder shot requires six- 
teen pounds of powder ; — in other words, if in ordinary guns 
we employ a quantity of powder equal to two-thirds of the 
weight of the projectile, this proportion is not constant. 
Calculate, and you will see that in place of three hundred 
and thirty-three pounds of powder, the quantity is reduced 
to no more than one hundred and sixty pounds.” 

“What are you aiming at.?” asked the president. 

“If you push your theory to extremes, my dear major,” 
said J. A. Maston, “you will get to this, that as soon as 
your shot becomes sufficiently heavy you will not require 
any powder at all.” 

“Our friend Maston is always at his jokes, even in serious 
matters,” cried the major; “but let him make his mind 
easy, I am going presently to propose gunpowder enough to 
satisfy his artillerist’s propensities. I only keep to statistical 
facts when I say that, during the war, and for the very 
largest guns, the weight of powder was reduced, as the 
result of experience, to a tenth part of the weight of the 
shot.” 

“Perfectly correct,” said Morgan; “but before deciding 
the quantity of powder necessary to give the impulse, I 
think it would be as well ” 

“We shall have to employ a large-grained powder,” con- 
tinued the major; “it’s combustion is more rapid than that 
of the small.” 

“No doubt about that,” replied Morgan ; “but it is very 
destructive, and ends by enlarging the bore of the pieces.” 

“Granted; but that which is injurious to a gun destined to 
perform long service is not so to our Columbiad. We shall 


586 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

run no danger of an explosion ; and it is necessary that our 
powder should take fire instantaneously in order that its 
mechanical effect may be complete.” 

“We must have,” said Maston, “several touch-holes, so 
as to fire it at different points at the same time.” 

“Certainly,” replied Elphinstone; “but that will render 
the working of the piece more difficult. I return then to my 
large-grained powder, which removes those difficulties. In 
his Columbiad charges Rodman employed a powder as large 
as chestnuts, made of willow charcoal, simply dried in cast- 
iron pans. This powder was hard and glittering, left no 
trace upon the hand, contained hydrogen and oxygen in 
large proportion, took fire instantaneously, and, though very 
destructive, did not sensibly injure the mouth-piece.” 

Up to this point Barbicane had kept aloof from the dis- 
cussion ; he left the others to speak while he himself listened ; 
he had evidently got an idea. He now simply said, “Well, my 
friends, what quantity of powder do you propose.^” 

The three members looked at one another. 

“Two hundred thousand pounds,” at last said Morgan. 

^‘Five hundred thousand,” added the major. 

^‘Eight hundred thousand,” screamed Maston. 

A moment of silence followed this triple proposal ; it was 
at last broken by the president. 

“Gentlemen,” he quietly said, “I start from this principle, 
that the resistance of a gun, constructed under the given 
conditions, is unlimited. I shall surprise our friend Maston, 
then, by stigmatizing his calculations as timid; and I pro- 
pose to double his 800,000 pounds of powder.” 

“Sixteen hundred thousand pounds shouted Maston, 
leaping from his seat. 

“Just so.” 

“We shall have to come then to my ideal of a cannon half 
a mile long; for you see 1,600,000 pounds will occupy a 
space of about 20,000 cubic feet; and since the contents of 
your cannon do not exceed 54), 000 cubic feet, it would be 
half full ; and the bore will not be more than long enough for 
the gas to communicate to the projectile sufficient impulse.” 

“Nevertheless,” said the president, “I hold to tliat quan- 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 587 

tity of powder. Now, 1,600,000 pounds of powder will create 
6,000,000,000 litres of gas. Six thousand millions! You 
quite understand 

“What is to be done then.?” said the general. 

“The thing is very simple; w^e must reduce this enor- 
mous quantity of powder, while preserving it to its mechan- 
ical power.” 

“Good ; but by what means .?” 

“I am going to tell you,” replied Barbicane quietly. 

“Nothing is more easy than to reduce this mass to one 
quarter of its bulk. You know that curious cellular matter 
which constitutes the elementary tissues of vegetables? This 
substance is found quite pure in many bodies, especially in 
cotton, which is nothing more than the down of the seeds 
of the cotton plant. Now cotton, combined with cold nitric 
acid, becomes transformed into a substance eminently in- 
soluble, combustible, and explosive. It was first discovered 
in 1832, by Braconnot, a French chemist, who called it 
xyloidine. In 1838 another Frenchman, Pelouze, investi- 
gated its different properties, and finally, in 1846, Schon- 
bein, professor of chemistry at Bale, proposed its em- 
ployment for purposes of war. This powder, now called 
pyroxyle, or fulminating cotton, is prepared with great facil- 
ity by simply plunging cotton for fifteen minutes in nitric 
acid, then washing it in water, then drying it, and it is 
ready for use.” 

“Nothing could be more simple,” said Morgan. 

“Moreover, pyroxyle is unaltered by moisture — a valu- 
able property to us, inasmuch as it would take several days 
to charge the cannon. It ignites at 170 degrees in place of 
240, and its combustion is so rapid that one may set light to 
it on the top of ordinary powder, without the latter having 
time to ignite.” 

“Perfect!” exclaimed the major. 

“Only it is more expensive.” 

“What matter?” cried J. T. Maston. 

“Finally, it imparts to projectiles a velocity four times 
superior to that of gunpowder. I will even add, that if we 
mix with it one-eighth of its own weight of nitrate of po- 


588 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

tassium, its expansive force is again considerably aug- 
mented.” 

“Will that be necessary.?” asked the major. 

“I think not,” replied Barbicane. “So, then, in place of 
1,600,000 pounds of powder, we shall have but 400,000 
pounds of fulminating cotton ; and since we can, without 
danger, compress 500 pounds of cotton into twenty-seven 
cubic feet, the whole quantity will not occupy a height of 
more than 180 feet within the bore of the Columbiad. In this 
way the shot will have more than 700 feet of bore to traverse 
under a force of 6,000,000,000 litres of gas before taking 
its flight toward the moon.” 

At this juncture J. T. Maston could not repress his emo- 
tion; he flung himself into the arms of his friend with the 
violence of a projectile, and Barbicane would have been 
stove in if he had not been boomproof. 

This incident terminated the third meeting of the com- 
mittee. 

Barbicane and his bold colleagues, to whom nothing 
seemed impossible, had succeeded in solving the complex 
problems of projectile, cannon, and powder. Their plan was 
drawn up, and it only remained to put it in execution. 

“A mere matter of detail, a bagatelle,” said J. T. Maston. 


CHAPTER X 

ONE ENEMY V, TWENTY-FIVE MILLIONS OF FRIENDS 

T HE American public took a lively interest in the smallest 
details of the enterprise of the Gun Club. It followed day 
by day the discussions of the committee. The most simple 
preparation for the great experiment, the questions of fig- 
ures which it involved, the mechanical difficulties to be re- 
solved — in one word, the entire plan of work — roused the 
popular excitement to the highest pitch. 

The purely scientific attraction was suddenly intensified 
by the following incident : 

We have seen what legions of admirers and friends Bar- 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 589 

bicane’s project had rallied round it author. There was, 
however, one single individual alone in all the States of 
the Union who protested against the attempt of the Gun 
Club. He attacked it furiously on every opportunity, and 
human nature is such that Barbicane felt more keenly the 
opposition of that one man than he did the applause of 
all the others. He was well aware of the motive of this an- 
tipathy, the origin of this solitary enmity, the cause of its 
personality and old standing, and in what rivalry of self- 
love it had its rise. 

This persevering enemy the president of the Gun Club 
had never seen. Fortunate that it was so, for a meeting be- 
tween the two men would certainly have been attended with 
serious consequences. This rival was a man of science, like 
Barbicane himself, of a fiery, daring, and violent disposition ; 
a pure Yankee. His name was Captain Nicholl; he lived at 
Philadelphia. 

Most people are aware of the curious struggle which arose 
during the Federal war between the guns and the armor of 
iron-plated ships. The result was the entire reconstruction 
of the navy of both the continents ; as the one grew heavier, 
the other became thicker in proportion. The Merrimac, the 
Monitor, the Tennessee, the Weehawken discharged enor- 
mous projectiles themselves, after having been armor-clad 
against the projectiles of others. In fact they did to others 
that which they would not they should do to them — that 
grand principle of immorality upon which rests the whole art 
of war. 

Now if Barbicane w^as a great founder of shot, Nicholl 
was a great forger of plates ; the one cast night and day at 
Baltimore, the other forged day and night at Philadelphia. 
As soon as ever Barbicane invented a new shot, Nicholl in- 
vented a new plate ; each follow^ed a current of ideas essen- 
tially opposed to the other. Happily for these citizens, so 
useful to their country, a distance of from fifty to sixty miles 
separated them from one another, and they had never yet 
met. Which of these two inventors had the advantage over 
the other it was difficult to decide from the results obtained. 
By last accounts, however, it w^ould seem that the armor- 


590 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

plate would in the end have to give way to the shot ; never- 
theless, there were competent judges who had their doubts 
on the point. 

At the last experiment the cylindro-conical projectiles of 
Barbicane stuck like so many pins in the Nicholl plates. 
On that day the Philadelpliia iron-forger then believed him- 
self victorious, and could not evince contempt enough for his 
rival; but when the other afterward substituted for conical 
shot simple 600-pound shells, at very moderate velocity, the 
captain was obliged to give in. In fact, these projectiles 
knocked his best metal-plate to shivers. 

Matters were at this stage, and victory seemed to rest 
with the shot, when the war came to an end on the very day 
when Nicholl had completed a new armor-plate of wrought 
steel. It was a masterpiece of its kind, and bid defiance to 
all the projectiles in the world. The captain had it con- 
veyed to the Polygon at Washington, challenging the presi- 
dent of the Gun Club to break it. Barbicane, peace having 
been declared, declined to try the experiment. 

Nicholl, now furious, offered to expose his plate to the 
shock of any shot, solid, hollow, round, or conical. Refused 
by the president, who did not choose to compromise his last 
success. 

Nicholl, disgusted by this obstinacy, tried to tempt Bar- 
bicane by offering him every chance. He proposed to fix 
the plate within two hundred yards of the gun. Barbicane 
still obstinate in refusal. A hundred yards? Not even 
seventy-five ! 

“At fifty then!” roared the captain through the news- 
papers. “At twenty-five yards ! and I’ll stand behind !” 

Barbicane returned for answer that, even if Captain 
Nicholl would be so good as to stand in front, he would not 
fire any more. 

Nicholl could not contain himself at this reply ; threw out 
hints of cowardice ; that a man who refused to fire a cannon- 
shot was pretty near being afraid of it ; that artillerists who 
fight at six miles’ distance are substituting mathematical 
formulae for individual courage. 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 591 

To these insinuations Barbicane returned no answer; per- 
haps he never heard of them, so absorbed was he in the cal- 
culations for his great enterprise. 

When his famous communication was made to the Gun 
Club, the captain’s wrath passed all bounds; with his in- 
tense jealousy was mingled a feeling of absolute impotence. 
How was he to invent anything to beat this 900-feet Colum- 
biad.? What armor-plate could ever resist a projectile of 

30.000 pounds weight.? Overwhelmed at first under this 
violent shock, he by and by recovered himself, and resolved 
to crush the proposal by the weight of his arguments. 

He then violently attacked the labors of the Gun Club, 
published a number of letters in the newspapers, endeavored 
to prove Barbicane ignorant of the first principles of gun- 
nery. He maintained that it was absolutely impossible to 
impress upon any body whatever a velocity of 12,000 yards 
per second; that even with such a velocity a projectile of 
such a weight could not transcend the limits of the earth’s 
atmosphere. Further still, 6ven regarding the velocity to be 
acquired, and granting it to be sufficient, the shell could not 
resist the pressure of the gas developed by the ignition of 

1.600.000 pounds of powder; and supposing it to resist that 
pressure, it would be less able to support that temperature ; 
it would melt on quitting the Columbiad, and fall back in 
a red-hot shower upon the heads of the imprudent spec- 
tators. 

Barbicane continued his work without regarding these 
attacks. 

Nicholl then took up the question in its other aspects. 
Without touching upon its uselessness in all points of view, 
he regarded the experiment as fraught with extreme danger, 
both to the citizens, who might sanction by their presence 
so reprehensible a spectacle, and also to the towns in the 
neighborhood of this deplorable cannon. He also observed 
that if the projectile did not succeed in reaching its des- 
tination (a result absolutely impossible), it must inevitably 
fall back upon the earth, and that the shock of such a mass, 
multiplied by the square of its velocity, would seriously en- 


592 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

danger every point of the globe. Under the circumstances, 
therefore, and without interfering v/ith the rights of free 
citizens, it was a case for the intervention of Government, 
which ought not to endanger the safety of all for the 
pleasure of one individual. 

Spite of all his arguments, however, Captain Nicholl re- 
mained alone in his opinion. Nobody listened to him, and he 
did not succeed in alienating a single admirer from the 
president of the Gun Club. The latter did not even take 
the pains to refute the arguments of his rival. 

Nicholl, driven into his last entrenchments, and not able 
to fight personally in the cause, resolved to fight with money. 
He published, therefore, in the Richmond Inquirer a series 
of wagers, conceived in these terms, and on an increasing 
scale : 

No. 1 ($1,000). — That the necessary funds for the ex- 
periment of the Gun Club will not be forthcoming. 

No. 2 ($2,000). — That the operation of casting a can- 
non of 900 feet is impracticable, and cannot pos- 
sibly succeed. 

No. 3 ($3,000). — That it is impossible to load the 
Columbiad, and that the pyroxyle will take fire 
spontaneously under the pressure of the projectile. 

No. 4 ($4,000). — That the Columbiad will burst at the 
first fire. 

No. 5 ($5,000). — That the shot will not travel farther 
than six miles, and that it will fall back again a 
few seconds after its discharge. 

It was an important sum, therefore, which the captain 
risked in his invincible obstinacy. He had no less than $15,- 
000 at stake. 

Notwithstanding the importance of the challenge, on the 
19th of May he received a sealed packet containing the 
following superbly laconic reply: 

“Baltimore, October 19. 

“Done. 

“Barbicane.” 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 


593 


CHAPTER XI 

FLORIDA AND TEXAS 

o NE question yet remained to be decided ; it was necessary 
to choose a favourable spot for the experiment. According 
to the advice of the Observatory of Cambridge, the gun 
must be fired perpendicularly to the plane of the horizon, 
that is to say, toward the zenith. Now the moon does not 
traverse the zenith, except in places situated between 0° 
and 28° of latitude. It became, then, necessary to determine 
exactly that spot on the globe where the immense Columbiad 
should be cast. 

On the 20th of October, at a general meeting of the Gun 
Club, Barbicane produced a magnificent map of the United 
States. “Gentlemen,” said he, in opening the discussion, “I 
presume that we are all agreed that this experiment cannot 
and ought not to be tried anywhere but within the limits of 
the soil of the Union. Now, by good fortune, certain frontiers 
of the United States extend downward as far as the 28th 
parallel of the north latitude. If you will cast you eye over 
this map, you will see that we have at our disposal the whole 
of the southern portion of Texas and Florida.” 

It was finally agreed, then, that the Columbiad must be 
cast on the soil of either Texas or Florida. The result, how- 
ever, of this decision was to create a rivalry entirely without 
precedent between the different towns of these two States. 

The 28th parallel, on reaching the American coast, tra- 
verses the peninsula of Florida, dividing it into two nearly 
equal portions. Then, plunging into the Gulf of Mexico, it 
subtends the arc formed by the coast of Alabama, Missis- 
sippi, and Louisiana ; then skirting Texas, off which it cuts 
an angle, it continues its course over Mexico, crosses the 
Sonora, Old California, and loses itself in the Pacific Ocean. 
It was, therefore, only those portions of Texas and Florida 
which were situated below this parallel which came within 
the prescribed conditions of latitude. 

Florida, in its southern part, reckons no cities of im- 
portance ; it is simply studded with forts raised against the 


594 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

roving Indians. One solitary town, Tampa Town, was able 
to put in a claim in favor of its situation. 

In Texas, on the contrary, the towns are much more nu- 
merous and important. Corpus Christi, in the county of 
Nueces, and all the cities situated on the Rio Bravo, Laredo, 
Comalites, San Ignacio on the Web, Rio Grande City on 
the Starr, Edinburgh in the Hidalgo, Santa Rita, Elpanda, 
Bro^msville in the Cameron, formed an imposing league 
against the pretensions of Florida. So, scarcely was the de- 
cision known, when the Texan and Floridan deputies arrived 
at Baltimore in an incredibly short space of time. From that 
very moment President Barbicane and the influential mem- 
bers of the Gun Club were besieged day and night by formid- 
able claims. If seven cities of Greece contended for the honor 
of having given birth to a Homer, here were two entire States 
threatening to come to blows about the question of a cannon. 

The rival parties promenaded the streets with arms in 
their hands; and at every occasion of their meeting a col- 
lision was to be apprehended which might have been at- 
tended with disastrous results. Happily the prudence and 
address of President Barbicane averted the danger. These 
personal demonstrations found a division in the newspapers 
of the different States. The New York Herald and the 
Tribune supported Texas, while the Times and the Amer- 
ican Review espoused the cause of the Floridan deputies. 
The members of the Gun Club could not decide to which to 
give the preference. 

Texas produced its array of twenty-six counties ; Florida 
replied that twelve counties were better than twenty-six in a 
country only one-sixth part of the size. 

Texas plumed itself upon it 330,000 natives; Florida, 
with a far smaller territory, boasted of being much more 
densely populated with 56,000. 

The Texans, through the columns of the Herald claimed 
that some regard should be had to a State which grew the 
best cotton in all America, produced the best green oak for 
the service of the navy, and contained the finest oil, besides 
iron mines, in which the yield was fifty per cent, of pure 
metal. 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 595 

To this the American Review replied that the soil of 
Florida, although not equally rich, afforded the best condi- 
tions for the moulding and casting of the Columbiad, con- 
sisting as it did of sand and argillaceous earth. 

“That may be all very well,” replied the Texans; “but 
you must first get to this country. Now the communications 
with Florida are difficult, while the coast of Texas offers 
the bay of Galveston, which possesses a circumference of 
fourteen leagues, and is capable of containing the navies 
of the entire world !” 

“A pretty notion truly,” replied the papers in the interest 
of Florida, “that of Galveston bay below the ^9th parallel! 
Have we not got the bay of Espiritu Santo, opening pre- 
cisely upon the ^Sth degree^ and by which ships can reach 
Tampa Town by direct route 

“A fine bay ; half choked with sand !” 

“Choked yourselves !” returned the others. 

Thus the war went on for several days, when Florida en- 
deavored to draw her adversary away on to fresh ground; 
and one morning the Times hinted that, the enterprise being 
essentially American, it ought not to be attempted upon 
other than purely American territory. 

To these words Texas retorted, “American ! are we not as 
much so as you.^^ Were not Texas and Florida both incor- 
porated into the Union in 1845.^” 

“Undoubtedly,” replied the Times ; “but we have belonged 
to the Americans ever since 1820.” 

“Yes !” returned the Tribune ; “after having been Span- 
iards or English for two hundred years, you were sold to 
the United States for five million dollars !” 

“Well! and why need we blush for that.^ Was not Louis- 
iana bought from Napoleon in 1803 at the price of sixteen 
million dollars.?” 

“Scandalous!” roared the Texan deputies. “A wretched 
little strip of country like Florida to dare to compare itself 
to Texas, who, in place of selling herself, asserted her own 
independence, drove out the Mexicans in March 2, 1846, 
and declared herself a federal republic after the victory 
gained by Samuel Houston, on the banks of the San Jacinto, 


596 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

over the troops of Santa Anna! — a country, in fine, which 
voluntarily annexed itself to the United States of America I” 

“Yes; because it was afraid of the Mexicans!” replied 
Florida. 

“Afraid!” From this moment the state of things became 
intolerable. A sanguinary encounter seemed daily imminent 
between the two parties in the streets of Baltimore. It be- 
came necessary to keep an eye upon the deputies. 

President Barbicane knew not which way to look. Notes, 
documents, letters full of menaces showered down upon his 
house. Which side ought he to take? As regarded the ap- 
propriation of the soil, the facility of communication, the 
rapidity of transport, the claims of both States were evenly 
balanced. As for political prepossessions, they had nothing 
to do with the question. 

This dead block had existed for some little time, when 
Barbicane resolved to get rid of it at once. He called a 
meeting of his colleagues, and laid before them a proposi- 
tion which, it will be seen, was profoundly sagacious. 

“On carefully considering,” he said, “what is going on 
now between Florida and Texas, it is clear that the same 
difficulties will recur with all the towns of the favored State. 
The rivalry will descend from State to city, and so on 
downward. Now Texas possesses eleven towns within the 
prescribed conditions, which will further dispute the honor 
and create us new enemies, while Florida has only one. I 
go in, therefore, for Florida and Tampa Towm.” 

This decision, on being made knowm, utterly crushed the 
Texan deputies. Seized with an indescribable fury, they ad- 
dressed threatening letters to the different members of the 
Gun Club by name. The magistrates had but one course to 
take, and they took it. They chartered a special train, forced 
the Texans into it whether they w^ould or no; and they 
quitted the city with a speed of thirty miles an hour. 

Quickly, however, as they were despatched, they found 
time to hurl one last and bitter sarcasm at their adversaries. 

Alluding to the extent of Florida, a mere peninsula con- 
fined between two seas, they pretended that it could never 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 597 

sustain the shock of the discharge, and that it would “bust 
up” at the very first shot. 

“Very well, let it bust up!” replied the Floridans, with 
a brevity of the days of ancient Sparta. 


CHAPTER XII 

URBI ET ORBI 

T HE astronomical, mechanical, and topographical difficul- 
ties resolved, finally came the question of finance. The sum 
required was far too great for any individual, or even any 
single State, to provide the requisite millions. 

President Barbicane undertook, despite of the matter be- 
ing a purely American affair, to render it one of universal 
interest, and to request the financial co-operation of all 
peoples. It was, he maintained, the right and duty of the 
whole earth to interfere in the affairs of its satellite. The 
subscription opened at Baltimore extended properly to the 
whole world — Urhi et orbi. 

This subscription was successful beyond all expectation; 
notwithstanding that it was a question not of lending but 
of giving the money. It was a purely distinterested operation 
in the strictest sense of the term, and offered not the slight- 
est chance of profit. 

The effect, however, of Barbicane’s communication was 
not confined to the frontiers of the United States ; it crossed 
the Atlantic and Pacific, invading simultaneously Asia and 
Europe, Africa and Oceanica. The observatories of the 
Union placed themselves in immediate communication with 
those of foreign countries. Some, such as those of Paris, 
Petersburg, Berlin, Stockholm, Hamburg, Malta, Lisbon, 
Benares, Madras, and others, transmitted their good wishes ; 
the rest maintained a prudent silence, quietly awaiting the 
result. As for the observatory at Greenwich, seconded as it 
was by the twenty-two astronomical establishments of Great 
Britain, it spoke plainly enough. It boldly denied the possi- 
bility of success, and pronounced in favor of the theories of 


598 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

Captain Niclioll. But this was nothing more than mere Eng- 
lish jealousy. 

On the 8th of October President Barbicane published a 
manifesto full of enthusiasm, in which he made an appeal 
to ‘‘all persons of good will upon the face of the earth.” This 
document, translated into all languages, met with immense 
success. 

Subscription lists were opened in all the principal cities 
of the Union, with a central office at the Baltimore Bank, 
9 Baltimore Street. 

In addition, subscriptions were received at the following 
banks in the different states of the two continents : 

At Vienna, with S. M. de Rothschild. 

At Petersburg, Stieglitz and Co. 

At Paris, The Credit Mobilier. 

At Stockholm, Tottie and Arfuredson. 

At London, N. M. Rothschild and Son. 

At Turin, Ardouin and Co. 

At Berlin, Mendelssohn. 

At Geneva, Lombard, Odier and Co. 

At Constantinople, The Ottoman Bank. 

At Brussels, J. Lambert. 

At Madrid, Daniel Weisweller. 

At Amsterdam, Netherlands Credit Co. 

At Rome, Torlonia and Co. 

At Lisbon, Lecesne. 

At Copenhagen, Private Bank. 

At Rio de J aneiro. Private Bank. 

At Montevideo, Private Bank. 

At Valparaiso and Lima, Thos. la Chambre and Co. 

At Mexico, Martin Daran and Co. 

Three days after the manifesto of President Barbicane 
$4,000,000 were paid into the different towns of the Union. 
With such a balance the Gun Club might begin operations 
at once. But some days later advices were received to the 
effect that the foreign subscriptions were being eagerly taken 
up. Certain countries distinguished themselves by their lib- 
erality ; others untied their purse-strings with less facility 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 599 

matter of temperament. Figures are, however, more elo- 
quent than words, and here is the official statement of the 
sums which were paid in to the credit of the Gun Club at 
the close of the subscription. 

Russia paid in as her contingent the enormous sum of 
368,733 roubles. No one need be surprised at this, who 
bears in mind the scientific taste of the Russians, and the 
impetus which they have given to astronomical studies — 
thanks to their numerous observatories. 

France began by deriding the pretensions of the Amer- 
icans. The moon served as a pretext for a thousand stale 
puns and a score of ballads, in which bad taste contested the 
palm with ignorance. But as formerly the French paid 
before singing, so now they paid after having had their 
laugh, and they subscribed for a sum of 1,253,930 francs. 
At that price they had a right to enjoy themselves a little. 

Austria showed herself generous in the midst of her finan- 
cial crisis. Her public contributions amounted to the sum of 
216,000 florins — a perfect godsend. 

Fifty-two thousand rix-dollars were the remittance of 
Sweden and Norway; the amount is large for the country, 
but it would undoubtedly have been considerably increased 
had the subscription been opened in Christiania simulta- 
neously with that at Stockholm. For some reason or other the 
Norwegians do not like to send their money to Sweden. 

Prussia, by a remittance of 250,000 thalers, testified her 
high approval of the enterprise. 

Turkey behaved generously ; but she had a personal inter- 
est in the matter. The moon, in fact, regulates the cycle of 
her years and her fast of Ramadan. She could not do less 
than give 1,372,640 piastres; and she gave them with an 
eagerness which denoted, however, some pressure on the part 
of the government. 

Belgium distinguished herself among the second-rate 
states by a grant of 513,000 francs — about two centimes 
per head of her population. 

Holland and her colonies interested themselves to the 
extent of 110,000 florins, only demanding an allowance of 
five per cent, discount for paying ready money. 


600 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

Denmark, a little contracted in territory, gave never' 
theless 9,000 ducats, proving her love for scientific ex- 
periments. 

The Germanic Confederation pledged itself to 34,285 
florins. It was impossible to ask for more; besides, they 
would not have given it. 

Though very much crippled, Italy found 200,000 lire in 
the pockets of her people. If she had had Venetia she would 
have done better ; but she had not. 

The States of the Church thought that they could not 
send less than 7,040 Roman crowns; and Portugal carried 
her devotion to science as far as 30,000 cruzados. It was 
the widow’s mite — eighty-six piastres; but self-constituted 
empires are always rather short of money. 

Two hundred and fifty-seven francs, this was the modest 
contribution of Switzerland to the American work. One 
must freely admit that she did not see the practical side 
of the matter. It did not seem to her that the mere des- 
patch of a shot to the moon could possibly establish any 
relation of affairs with her; and it did not seem prudent 
to her to embark her capital in so hazardous an enterprise. 
After all, perhaps she was right. 

As to Spain, she could not scrape together more than 
110 reals. She gave as an excuse that she had her railways 
to finish. The truth is, that science is not favorably regarded 
in that country, it is still in a backward state; and, more- 
over, certain Spaniards, not by any means the least edu- 
cated, did not form a correct estimate of the bulk of the 
projectile compared with that of the moon. They feared 
that it would disturb the established order of things. In 
that case it were better to keep aloof ; which they did to 
the tune of some reals. 

There remained but England; and we know the con- 
temptuous antipathy with which she received Barbicane’s 
proposition. The English have but one soul for the whole 
twenty-six millions of inhabitants which Great Britain con- 
tains. They hinted that the enterprise of the Gun Club was 
contrary to the “principle of non-intervention.” And they 
did not subscribe a single farthing. 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 601 

At this intimation the Gun Club merely shrugged its 
shoulders and returned to its great work. When South 
America, that is to say, Peru, Chili, Brazil, the provinces 
of La Plata and Colombia, had poured forth their quota 
into their hands, the sum of $300,000, it found itself in 
possession of a considerable capital, of which the follow- 
ing is a statement: 

United States subscriptions, . $4,000,000 

Foreign subscriptions . . • 1,446,675 

Total, .... $5,446,675 

Such was the sum which the public poured into the treas- 
ury of the Gun Club. 

Let no one be surprised at the vastness of the amount. 
The work of casting, boring, masonry, the transport of 
workmen, their establishment in an almost uninhabited 
country, the construction of furnaces and workshops, the 
plant, the powder, the projectile, and incidental expenses, 
would, according to the estimates, absorb nearly the whole. 
Certain cannon-shots in the Federal war cost one thousand 
dollars apiece. This one of President Barbicane, unique in 
the annals of gunnery, might well cost five thousand times 
more. 

On the 20th of October a contract was entered into with 
the manufactory at Coldspring, near New York, which dur- 
ing the war had furnished the largest Parrott, cast-iron guns. 
It was stipulated between the contracting parties that the 
manufactory of Coldspring should engage to transport to 
Tampa Town, in southern Florida, the necessary materials 
for casting the Columbiad. The work was bound to be com- 
pleted at latest by the 15th of October following, and the 
cannon delivered in good condition under penalty of a for- 
feit of one hundred dollars a day to the moment when the 
moon should again present herself under the same conditions 
— that is to say, in eighteen years and eleven days. 

The engagement of the workmen, their pay, and all the 
necessary details of the work, devolved upon the Coldspring 
Company. 


602 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

This contract, executed in duplicate, was signed by Bar- 
bicane, president of the Gun Club, of the one part, and T. 
Murphison, director of the Coldspring manufactory, of the 
other, who thus executed the deed on behalf of their respec- 
tive principals. 


CHAPTER XIII 

STONES HILL 

w HEN the decision was arrived at by the Gun Club, to 
the disparagement of Texas, every one in America, where 
reading is a universal acquirement, set to work to study 
the geography of Florida. Never before had there been such 
a sale for works like “Bertram’s Travels in Florida,” 
“Roman’s Natural History of East and West Florida,” 
“William’s Territory of Florida,” and “Cleland on the 
Cultivation of the Sugar-Cane in Florida.” It became 
necessary to issue fresh editions of these works. 

Barbicane had something better to do than to read. He 
desired to see things with his o\vm eyes, and to mark the ex- 
act position of the proposed gun. So, without a moment’s 
loss of time, he placed at the disposal of the Cambridge Ob- 
servatory the funds necessary for the construction of a tele- 
scope, and entered into negotiations with the house of 
Breadwill and Co., of Albany, for the construction of an 
aluminium projectile of the required size. He then quitted 
Baltimore, accompanied by J. T. Maston, Major Elphin- 
stone, and the manager of the Coldspring factory. 

On the following day, the four fellow-travelers arrived 
at New Orleans. There they immediately embarked on board 
the Tampico, a despatch-boat belonging to the Federal 
navy, which the government had placed at their disposal; 
and, getting up steam, the banks of Louisiana speedily dis- 
appeared from sight. 

The passage was not long. Two days after starting, the 
Tampico, having made four hundred and eighty miles, came 
in sight of the coast of Florida. Ou a nearer approach Bar- 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 603 

bicane found himself in view of a low, flat country of some- 
what barren aspect. After coasting along a series of creeks 
abounding in lobsters and oysters, the Tampico entered the 
bay of Espiritu Santo, where she finally anchored in a small 
natural harbor, formed by the embouchure of the River 
Hillisborough, at seven p.m., on the 22d of October. 

Our four passengers disembarked at once. “Gentlemen,” 
said Barbicane, “we have no time to lose ; tomorrow we must 
obtain horses, and proceed to reconnoiter the country.” 

Barbicane had scarcely set his foot on shore when three 
thousand of the inhabitants of Tampa Town came forth to 
meet him, an honor due to the president who had signalized 
their country by his choice. 

Declining, however, every kind of ovation, Barbicane 
ensconced himself in a room of the Franklin Hotel. 

On the morrow some of those small horses of the Spanish 
breed, full of vigor and of fire, stood snorting under his 
windows; but instead of four steeds, here were fifty, to- 
gether with their riders. Barbicane descended with his three 
fellow-travelers ; and much astonished were they all to find 
themselves in the midst of such a cavalcade. He remarked 
that every horseman carried a carbine slug across his 
shoulders and pistols in his holsters. 

On expressing his surprise at these preparations, he was 
speedily enlightened by a young Floridan, who quietly said : 

“Sir, there are Seminoles there.” 

“What do you mean by Seminoles 

“Savages who scour the prairies. We thought it best, 
therefore, to escort you on your road.” 

“Pooh!” cried J. T. Maston, mounting his steed. 

“All right,” said the Floridan; “but it is true enough, 
nevertheless.” 

“Gentlemen,” answered Barbicane, “I thank you for your 
kind attention ; but it is time to be off.” 

It was five A.M. when Barbicane and his party, quitting 
Tampa Town, made their way along the coast in the direc- 
tion of Alifia Creek. This little river falls into Hillisborough 
Bay twelve miles above Tampa Town. Barbicane and his 
escort coasted along its right bank to the eastward. Soon 


604 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

the waves of the bay disappeared behind a bend of rising 
ground, and the Floridan ‘‘champagne” alone offered itself 
to view. 

Florida, discovered on Palm Sunday, in 1512, by Juan 
Ponce de Leon, was originally named Pascha Florida. It 
little deserved that designation, with its dry and parched 
coasts. But after some few miles of tract the nature of the 
soil gradually changes and the country shows itself worthy 
of the name. Cultivated plains soon appear, where are 
united all the productions of the northern and tropical 
floras, terminating in prairies abounding with pineapples 
and yams, tobacco, rice, cotton-plants, and sugar-canes, 
which extend beyond reach of sight, flinging their riches 
broadcast with careless prodigality. 

Barbicane appeared highly pleased on observing the 
progressive elevation of the land; and in answer to a ques- 
tion of J. T. Maston, replied: 

“My worthy friend, we cannot do better than sink our 
Columbiad in these high grounds.” 

“To get nearer to the moon, perhaps.?” said the secre- 
tary of the Gun Club. 

“Not exactly,” replied Barbicane, smiling; “do you not 
see that among these elevated plateaus we shall have a much 
easier work of it.? No struggles with the water-springs, 
which will save us long expensive tubings; and we shall be 
working in daylight instead of down a deep and narrow 
well. Our business, then, is to open our trenches upon 
ground some hundreds of yards above the level of the sea.” 

“You are right, sir,” struck in Murchison, the engineer; 
“and, if I mistake not, we shall ere long find a suitable spot 
for our purpose.” 

“I wish we were at the first stroke of the pickaxe,” said 
the president. 

“And I wish we were at the cried J. T. Maston. 

About ten a.m. the little band had crossed a dozen miles. 
To fertile plains succeeded a region of forests. There per- 
fumes of the most varied kinds mingled together in tropical 
profusion. These almost impenetrable forests were com- 
posed of pomegranates, orange-trees, citrons, figs, olives, 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 605 

apricots, bananas, huge vines, whose blossoms and fruits 
rivaled each other in color and perfume. Beneath the odor- 
ous shade of these magnificent trees fluttered and warbled 
a little world of brilliantly plumaged birds. 

J. T. Maston and the major could not repress their ad- 
miration on finding themselves in the presence of the glori- 
ous beauties of this wealth of nature. President Barbicane, 
however, less sensitive to these wonders, was in haste to 
press forward'; the very luxuriance of the country was dis- 
pleasing to him. They hastened onward, therefore, and were 
compelled to ford several rivers, not without danger, for 
they were infested with huge alligators from fifteen to 
eighteen feet long. Maston courageously menaced them 
with his steel hook, but he only succeeded in frightening 
some pelicans and teal, while tall flamingos stared stupidly 
at the party. 

At length these denizens of the swamps disappeared in 
their turn ; smaller trees became thinly scattered among 
less dense thickets — a few isolated groups detached in 
the midst of endless plains over which ranged herds of 
startled deer. 

“At last,” cried Barbicane, rising in his stirrups, “here 
we are at the region of pines !” 

“Yes! and of savages too,” replied the major. 

In fact, some Seminoles had just come in sight upon the 
horizon ; they rode violently backward and forward on their 
fleet horses, brandishing their spears or discharging their 
guns with a dull report. These hostile demonstrations, how- 
ever, had no effect upon Barbicane and his companions. 

They were then occupying the center of a rocky plain, 
which the sun scorched with its parching ray-s. This was 
formed by a considerable elevation of the soil, which seemed 
to offer to the members of the Gun Club all the conditions 
requisite for the construction of their Columbiad. 

“Halt!” said Barbicane, reining up. “Has this place any 
local appellation.^” 

“It is called Stones Hill,” replied one of the Floridans. 

Barbicane, without saying a word, dismounted, seized 
his instruments, and began to note his position with ex- 


606 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 


treme exactness. The little band, drawn up in the rear, 
watched his proceedings in profound silence. 

At this moment the sun passed the meridian. Barbicane, 
after a few moments, rapidly wrote down the result of his 
observations, and said: 

“This spot is situated eighteen hundred feet above the 
level of the sea, in ^7° 7' N. lat. and 5° 7' W. long, of the 
meridian of Washington. It appears to me by its rocky and 
barren character to offer all the conditions requisite for our 
experiment. On that plain will be raised our magazines, 
workshops, furnaces, and workmen’s huts; and here, from 
this very spot,” said he, stamping his foot on the summit 
of Stones Hill, “hence shall our projectile take it flight into 
the regions of the Solar World.” 


CHAPTER XIV 

PICKAXE AND TROWEL 

T he same evening Barbicane and his companions returned 
to Tampa Town; and Murchison, the engineer, re-embarked 
on board the Tampico for New Orleans. His object was to 
enlist an army of workmen, and to collect together the 
greater part of the materials. The members of the Gun Club 
remained at Tampa Town, for the purpose of setting on 
foot the preliminary works by the aid of the people of the 
country. 

Eight days after its departure, the Tampico returned 
into the bay of Espiritu Santo, with a whole flotilla of 
steamboats. . Murchison had succeeded in assembling to- 
gether fifteen hundred artisans. Attracted by the high pay 
and considerable bounties offered by the Gun Club, he had 
enlisted a choice legion of stokers, iron-founders, lime- 
burners, miners, brickmakers, and artisans of every trade, 
without distinction of color. As many of these people 
brought their families with them, their departure resembled 
a perfect emigration. 

On the 31st of October, at ten o’clock in the morning. 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 607 

the troop disembarked on the quays of Tampa Town; and 
one may imagine the activity which pervaded that little 
town, whose population was thus doubled in a single day. 

During the first few days they were busy discharging the 
cargo brought by the flotilla, the machines, and the rations, 
as well as a large number of huts constructed of iron plates, 
separately pieced and numbered. At the same period Barbi- 
cane laid the first sleepers of a railway fifteen miles in 
length, intended to unite Stones Hill with Tampa Town. 
On the first of November Barbicane quitted Tampa Town 
with a detachment of workmen ; and on the following day 
the whole town of huts was erected round Stones Hill. This 
they enclosed with palisades ; and in respect of energy and 
activity, it might have shortly been mistaken for one of the 
great cities of the Union. Everything was placed under a 
complete system of discipline, and the works were com- 
menced in most perfect order. 

The nature of the soil having been carefully examined, 
by means of repeated borings, the work of excavation was 
fixed for the 4th of November. 

On that day Barbicane called together his foremen and 
addressed them as follows : “You are well aware, my friends, 
of the object with which I have assembled you together in 
this wild part of Florida. Our business is to construct a 
cannon measuring nine feet in its interior diameter, six 
feet thick, and with a stone revetment of nineteen and a 
half feet in thickness. We have, therefore, a well of sixty 
feet in diameter to dig down to a depth of nine hundred feet. 
This great work must be completed within eight months, so 
that you have 2,548,400 cubic feet of earth to excavate in 
255 days ; that is to say, in round numbers, 2,000 cubic feet 
per day. That which would present no difficulty to a thou- 
sand navvies working in open country will be of course more 
troublesome in a comparatively confined space. However, the 
thing must be done, and I reckon for its accomplishment 
upon your courage as much as upon your skill.” 

At eight o’clock in the morning the first stroke of the 
pickaxe was struck upon the soil of Florida ; and from that 
moment that prince of tools was never inactive for one mo- 


608 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

merit in the hands of the excavators. The gangs relieved 
each other every three hours. 

On the 4th of November fifty workmen commenced dig- 
ging, in the very center of the enclosed space on the sum- 
mit of Stones Hill, a circular hole sixty feet in diameter. 
The pickaxe first struck upon a kind of black earth, six 
inches in thickness, which was speedily disposed of. To this 
earth succeeded two feet of fine sand, which was carefully 
laid aside as being valuable for serving for the ca&ting of 
the inner mould. After the sand appeared some compact 
white clay, resembling the chalk of Great Britain, which 
extended down to a depth of four feet. Then the iron of 
the picks struck upon the hard bed of the soil; a kind of 
rock formed of petrified shells, very dry, very solid, and 
which the picks could with difficulty penetrate.. At this 
point the excavation exhibited a depth of six and a half feet 
and the work of the masonry was begun. 

At the bottom of this excavation they constructed a wheel 
of oak, a kind of circle strongly bolted together, and of im- 
mense strength. The center of this wooden disc was hol- 
lowed out to a diameter equal to the exterior diameter of 
the Columbiad. Upon this wheel rested the first layers of 
the masonry, the stones of which were bound together by 
hydraulic cement, with irresistible tenacity. The workmen, 
after laying the stones from the circumference to the center, 
were thus enclosed within a kind of well twenty-one feet in 
diameter. When this work was accomplished, the miners re- 
sumed their picks and cut away the rock from underneath 
the wheel itself, taking care to support it as they advanced 
upon blocks of great thickness. At every two feet which the 
hole gained in depth they successively withdrew the blocks. 
The wheel then sank little by little, and with it the massive 
ring of masonry, on the upper bed of which the masons 
labored incessantly, always reserving some vent holes to per- 
mit the escape of gas during the operation of casting. 

This kind of work required on the part of the workmen 
extreme nicety and minute attention. More than one, in 
digging underneath the wheel, was dangerously injured by 
the splinters of stone. But their ardor never relaxed, night 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 609 

or day. By day they worked under the rays of the scorch- 
ing sun ; by night, under the gleam of the electric light. The 
sounds of the picks against the rock, the bursting of mines, 
the grinding of the machines, the wreaths of smoke scattered 
through the air, traced around Stones Hill a circle of terror 
which the herds of buffaloes and the war parties of the Semi- 
noles never ventured to pass. Nevertheless, the works ad- 
vanced regularly, as the steam-cranes actively removed the 
rubbish. Of unexpected obstacles there was little account; 
and with regard to foreseen difficulties, they were speedily 
disposed of. 

At the expiration of the first month the well had attained 
the depth assigned for that lapse of time, namely, IIS feet. 
This depth was doubled in December, and trebled in 
January. 

During the month of February the workmen had to con- 
tend with a sheet of water which made its way right across 
the outer soil. It became necessary to employ very powerful 
pumps and compressed-air engines to drain it off, so as to 
close up the orifice from whence it issued; just as one stops 
a leak on board ship. They at last succeeded in getting the 
upper hand of these untoward streams ; only, in consequence 
of the loosening of the soil, the wheel partly gave way, and 
a slight partial settlement ensued. This accident cost the life 
of several workmen. 

No fresh occurrence thenceforward arrested the progress 
of the operation; and on the 10th of June, twenty days be- 
fore the expiration of the period fixed by Barbicane, the 
well, lined throughout with its facing of stone, had attained 
the depth of 900 feet. At the bottom the masonry rested 
upon a massive block measuring thirty feet in thickness, 
while on the upper portion it was level with the surround- 
ing soil. 

President Barbicane and the members of the Gun Club 
warmly congratulated their engineer Murchison: the cy- 
clopean work had been accomplished with extraordinary 
rapidity. 

During these eight months Barbicane never quitted 
Stones Hill for a single instant. Keeping ever close by the 


610 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

work of excavation, he busied himself incessantly with the 
welfare and health of his workpeople, and was singularly 
fortunate in warding off the epidemics common to large 
communities of men, and so disastrous in those regions of 
the globe which are exposed to the influences of tropical 
climates. 

Many workmen, it is true, paid with their lives for the 
rashness inherent in these dangerous labors ; but these mis- 
haps are impossible to be avoided, and they are classed 
among details with which the Americans trouble themselves 
but little. They have in fact more regard for human nature 
in general than for the individual in particular. 

Nevertheless, Barbicane professed opposite principles to 
these, and put them in force at every opportunity. So, 
thanks to his care, his intelligence, his useful intervention 
in all difficulties, his prodigious and humane sagacity, the 
average of accidents did not exceed that of transatlantic 
countries, noted for their excessive precautions — France, 
for instance, among others, where they reckon about one 
accident for every two hundred thousand francs of work. 


CHAPTER XV 

THE f:^te of the casting 

D URiNG the eight months which were employed in the 
work of excavation the preparatory works of the casting 
had been carried on simultaneously with extreme rapidity. 
A stranger arriving at Stones Hill would have been sur- 
prised at the spectacle offered to his view. 

At 600 yards from the well, and circularly arranged 
around it as a central point, rose 1,200 reverberating ovens, 
each six feet in diameter, and separated from each other by 
an interval of three feet. The circumference occupied by 
these 1,200 ovens presented a length of two miles. Being 
all constructed on the same plan, each with its high quad- 
rangular chimney* they produced a most singular effect. 

It will be remembered that on their third meeting the 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 611 

committee had decided to use cast iron for the Columbiad, 
and in particular the white description. This metal, in fact, 
is the most tenacious, the most ductile, and the most malle- 
able, and consequently suitable for all moulding operations ; 
and when smelted with pit coal, is of superior quality for 
all engineering works requiring great resisting power, such 
as cannon, steam boilers, hydraulic presses, and the like. 

Cast iron, however, if subjected to only one single fusion, 
is rarely sufficiently homogeneous; and it requires a second 
fusion completely to refine it by dispossessing it of its last 
earthly deposits. So before being forwarded to Tampa 
Town, the iron ore, molten in the great furnaces of Cold- 
spring, and brought into contact with coal and silicium 
heated to a high temperature, was carburized and trans- 
formed into cast iron. After this first operation, the metal 
was sent on to Stones Hill. They had, however, to deal with 
136,000,00 pounds of iron, a quantity far too costly to send 
by railway. The cost of transport would have been double 
that of material. It appeared preferable to freight vessels 
at New York, and to load them with the iron in bars. This, 
however, required not less than sixty -eight vessels of 1,000 
tons, a veritable fleet, which, quitting New York on the 3d 
of May, on the 10th of the same month ascended the Bay 
of Espiritu Santo, and discharged their cargoes, without 
dues, in the port at Tampa Town. Thence the iron was 
transported by rail to Stones Hill, and about the middle of 
January this enormous mass of metal was delivered at its 
destination. 

It will be easily understood that 1,200 furnaces were not 
too many to melt simultaneously these 60,000 tons of iron. 
Each of these furnaces contained nearly 140,000 pounds 
weight of metal. They were all built after the model of those 
which served for the casting of the Rodman gun ; they were 
trapezoidal in shape, with a high elliptical arch. These 
furnaces, constructed of fireproof brick, were especially 
adapted for burning pit coal, with a flat bottom upon which 
the iron bars were laid. This bottom, inclined at an angle of 
25 degrees, allowed the metal to flow into the receiving 


61^ FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

troughs; and the 1,200 converging trenches carried the 
molten metal down to the central well. 

The day following that on which the works of the 
masonry and boring had been completed, Barbicane set to 
work upon the central mould. His object now was to raise 
wdthin the center of the well, and with a coincident axis, a 
cylinder 900 feet high, and nine feet in diameter, which 
should exactly fill up the space reserved for the bore of the 
Columbiad. This cylinder was composed of a mixture of 
clay and sand, with the addition of a little hay and straw. 
The space left between the mould and the masonry was in- 
tended to be filled up by the molten metal, which would thus 
form the walls six feet in thickness. This cylinder, in order 
to maintain its equilibrium, had to be bound by iron bands, 
and firmly fixed at certain intervals by cross-clamps fast- 
ened into the stone lining; after the castings these would 
be buried in the block of metal, leaving no external pro- 
jection. 

This operation was completed on the 8th of July, and 
the run of the metal was fixed for the following day. 

‘‘This fete of the casting will be a grand ceremony,” said 
J. T. Maston to his friend Barbicane. 

“Undoubtedly,” said Barbicane; “but it will not be a 
public fete.’^ 

“What! will you not open the gates of the enclosure to 
all comers 

“I must be very careful, Maston. The casting of the 
Columbiad is an extremely delicate, not to say a dangerous 
operation, and I should prefer its being done privately. 
At the discharge of the projectile, a fete if you like — till 
then, no!” 

The president was right. The operation involved unfore- 
seen dangers, which a great influx of spectators would have 
hindered him from averting. It was necessary to preserve 
complete freedom of movement. No one was admitted within 
the enclosure except a delegation of members of the Gun 
Club, who had made the voyage to Tampa Town. Among 
these was the brisk Bilsby, Tom Hunter, Colonel Bloms- 
berry. Major Elphinstone, General Morgan, and the rest 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 613 

of the lot to whom the casting of the Columbiad was a 
matter of personal interest. J. T. Maston became their 
cicerone. He omitted no point of detail; he conducted them 
throughout the magazines, workshops, through the midst of 
the engines, and compelled them to visit the whole 1,200 
furnaces one after the other. At the end of the twelve- 
hundredth visit they were pretty well knocked up. 

The casting was to take place at twelve o’clock pre- 
cisely. The previous evening each furnace had been charged 
with 114,000 pounds weight of metal in bars disposed cross- 
ways to each other, so as to allow the hot air to circulate 
freely between them. At daybreak the 1,200 chimneys 
vomited their torrents of flame into the air, and the ground 
w^as agitated with dull tremblings. As many pounds of metal 
as there were to cast, so many pounds of coal were there to 
burn. Thus there were 68,000 tons of coal w^hich projected 
in the face of the sun a thick curtain of smoke. The heat 
soon became insupportable within the circle of furnaces, the 
rumbling of which resembled the rolling of thunder. The 
powerful ventilators added their continuous blasts and satu- 
rated with oxygen the glowing plates. The operation, to be 
successful, required to be conducted with great rapidity. 
On a signal given by a cannon-shot each furnace was to 
give vent to the molten iron and completely to empty itself. 
These arrangements made, foremen and workmen waited 
the preconcerted moment wdth an impatience mingled with 
a certain amount of emotion. Not a soul remained within the 
enclosure. Each superintendent took his post by the aper- 
ture of the run. 

Barbicane and his colleagues, perched on a neighboring 
eminence, assisted at the operation. In front of them was 
a piece of artillery ready to give Are on the signal from 
the engineer. Some minutes before midday the first driblets 
of metal began to flow ; the reservoirs filled little by little ; 
and, by the time that the whole melting was completely ac- 
complished, it was kept in abeyance for a few minutes in 
order to facilitate the separation of foreign substances. 

Twelve o’clock struck! A gunshot suddenly pealed forth 
and shot its flame into the air. Twelve hundred melting- 


614) FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

troughs were simultaneously opened and twelve hundred 
fiery serpents crept toward the central well, unrolling their 
incandescent curves. There, down they plunged with a 
terrific noise into a depth of 900 feet. It was an exciting 
and a magnificent spectacle. The ground trembled, while 
these molten waves, launching into the sky their wreaths of 
smoke, evaporated the moisture of the mould and hurled it 
upward through the vent-holes of the stone lining in the 
form of dense vapor-clouds. These artificial clouds unrolled 
their thick spirals to a height of 1,000 yards into the air. 
A savage, wandering somewhere beyond the limits of the 
horizon, might have believed that some new crater was 
forming in the bosom of Florida, although there was neither 
any eruption, nor typhoon, nor storm, nor struggle of the 
elements, nor any of those terrible phenomena which na- 
ture is capable of producing. No, it was man alone who had 
produced these reddish vapors, these gigantic flames worthy 
of a volcano itself, these tremendous vibrations resembling 
the shock of an earthquake, these reverberations rivaling 
those of hurricanes and storms; and it was his hand which 
precipitated into an abyss, dug by himself, a whole Niagara 
of molten metal! 


CHAPTER XVI 

THE COLUMBIAD 

H AD the casting succeeded? They were reduced to mere 
conjecture. There was indeed every reason to expect suc- 
cess, since the mould had absorbed the entire mass of the 
molten metal; still some considerable time must elapse be- 
fore they could arrive at any certainty upon the matter. 

The patience of the members of the Gun Club was sorely 
tried during this period of time. But they could do nothing. 
J. T. Maston escaped roasting by a miracle. Fifteen days 
after the casting an immense column of smoke was still ris- 
ing in the open sky and the ground burned the soles of the 
feet within a radius of two hundred feet round the summit 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 615 

of Stones Hill. It was impossible to approach nearer. All 
they could do was to wait with what patience they might. 

“Here we are at the 10th of August,” exclaimed J. T. 
Maston one morning, “only four months to the 1st of De- 
cember ! We shall never be ready in time!” Barbicane said 
nothing, but his silence covered serious irritation. 

However, daily observations revealed a certain change 
going on in the state of the ground. About the 15th of 
August the vapors ejected had sensibly diminished in in- 
tensity and thickness. Some days afterward the earth ex- 
haled only a slight puff of smoke, the last breath of the 
monster enclosed within its circle of stone. Little by little the 
belt of heat contracted, until on the 22d of August, Barbi- 
cane, his colleagues, and the engineer were enabled to set 
foot on the iron sheet which lay level upon the summit of 
Stones Hill. 

“At last!” exclaimed the president of the Gun Club, with 
an immense sigh of relief. 

The work was resumed the same day. They proceeded at 
once to extract the interior mould, for the purpose of clear- 
ing out the boring of the piece. Pickaxes and boring irons 
were set to work without intermission. The clayey and sandy 
soils had acquired extreme hardness under the action of the 
heat; but, by the aid of the machines, the rubbish on being 
dug out was rapidly carted away on railway wagons; and 
such was the ardor of the work, so persuasive the arguments 
of Barbicane’s dollars, that by the 3d of September all 
traces of the mould had entirely disappeared. 

Immediately the operation of boring was commenced ; and 
by the aid of powerful machines, a few weeks later, the 
inner surface of the immense tube had been rendered per- 
fectly cylindrical, and the bore of the piece had acquired a 
thorough polish. 

At length, on the 22d of September, less than a twelve- 
month after Barbicane’s original proposition, the enormous 
weapon, accurately bored, and exactly vertically pointed, 
was ready for work. There was only the moon now to wait 
for; and they were pretty sure that she would not fail in 
the rendezvous. 


616 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

The ecstasy of J. T. Maston knew no bounds, and he 
narrowly escaped a frightful fall while staring down the 
tube. But for the strong hand of Colonel Blomsberry, the 
worthy secretary, like a modern Erostratus, would have 
found his death in the depths of the Columbiad. 

The cannon was then finished ; there was no possible doubt 
as to its perfect completion. So, on the 6th of October, Cap- 
tain Nicholl opened an account between himself and Presi- 
dent Barbicane, in which he debited himself to the latter in 
the sum of two thousand dollars. One may believe that the 
captain’s wrath was increased to its highest point, and must 
have made him seriously ill. However, he had still three bets 
of three, four, and five thousand dollars, respectively; and 
if he gained two out of these, his position would not be very 
bad. But the money question did not enter into his calcula- 
tions ; it was the success of his rival in casting a cannon 
against which iron plates sixty feet thick would have been 
inelf ectual, that dealt him a terrible blow. 

After the 2Sd of September the enclosure of Stones Hill 
was thrown open to the public; and it will be easily imag- 
ined what was the concourse of visitors to this spot! There 
was an incessant flow of people to and from Tampa Town 
and the place, which resembled a procession, or rather, in 
fact, a pilgrimage. 

It was already clear to be seen that, on the day of the 
experiment itself, the aggregate of spectators would be 
counted by millions; for they were already arriving from 
all parts of the earth upon this narrow strip of promontory. 
Europe was emigrating to America. 

Up to that time, however, it must be confessed, the 
curiosity of the numerous comers was but scantily gratified. 
Most had counted upon witnessing the spectacle of the cast- 
ing, and they were treated to nothing but smoke. This was 
sorry food for hungry eyes ; but Barbicane would admit no 
one to that operation. Then ensued grumbling, discontent, 
murmurs; they blamed the president, taxed him with dic- 
tatorial conduct. His proceedings were declared “un-Ameri- 
can.” There was very nearly a riot round Stones Hill ; but 
Barbicane remained inflexible. When, however, the Colum- 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 617 

biad was entirely finished, this state of closed doors could 
no longer be maintained; besides it would have been bad 
taste, and even imprudence, to affront the public feeling. 
Barbicane, therefore, opened the enclosure to all comers ; 
but, true to his practical disposition, he determined to coin 
money out of the public curiosity. 

It was something, indeed, to be enabled to contemplate 
this immense Columbiad; but to descend into its depths, 
this seemed to the Americans the Tie plus ultra of earthly 
felicity. Consequently, there was not one curious spectator 
who was not willing to give himself the treat of visiting the 
interior of this metallic abyss. Baskets suspended from 
steam-cranes permitted them to satisfy their curiosity. 
There was a perfect mania. Women, children, old men, all 
made it a point of duty to penetrate the mysteries of the 
colossal gun. The fare for the descent was fixed at five 
dollars per head; and, despite this high charge, during the 
two months which preceded the experiment, the influx of 
visitors enabled the Gun Club to pocket nearly five hundred 
thousand dollars! 

It is needless to say that the first visitors of the Colum- 
biad were the members of the Gun Club. This privilege was 
justly reserved for that illustrious body. The ceremony took 
place on the 25th of September. A basket of honor took 
down the president, J. T. Maston, Major Elphinstone, Gen- 
eral Morgan, Colonel Blomsberry, and other members of the 
club, to the number of ten in all. How hot it was at the 
bottom of that long tube of metal! They were half suffo- 
cated. But what delight! What ecstasy! A table had been 
laid with six covers on the massive stone which formed the 
bottom of the Columbiad, and lighted by a jet of electric 
light resembling that of day itself. Numerous exquisite 
dishes, which seemed to descend from heaven, were placed 
successively before the guests, and the richest wines of 
France flowed in profusion during this splendid repast, 
served nine hundred feet beneath the surface of the earth! 

The festival was animated, not to say somewhat noisy. 
Toasts flew backward and forward. They drank to the earth 
and to her satellite, to the Gun Club, the Union, the Moon, 


618 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

Diana, Phoebe, Selene, the ‘‘peaceful courier of the night!” 
All the hurrahs, carried upward upon the sonorous waves 
of the immense acoustic tube, arrived with the sound of 
thunder at its mouth; and the multitude ranged round 
Stones Hill heartily united their shouts with those of the 
ten revelers hidden from view at the bottom of the gigantic 
Columbiad. 

J. T. Maston was no longer master of himself. Whether 
he shouted or gesticulated, ate or drank most, would be a 
difficult matter to determine. At all events, he would not 
have given his place up for an empire, “not even if the 
cannon — ^loaded, primed, and fired at that very moment — 
were to blow him in pieces into the planetary world.” 


CHAPTER XVII 

A TELEGRAPHIC DISPATCH 

The great works undertaken by the Gun Club had now 
virtually come to an end; and two months still remained 
before the day for the discharge of the shot to the moon. 
To the general impatience these two months appeared as 
long as years! Hitherto the smallest details of the opera- 
tion had been daily chronicled by the journals, which the 
public devoured with eager eyes. 

Just at this moment a circumstance, the most unexpected, 
the most extraordinary and incredible, occurred to rouse 
afresh their panting spirits, and to throw every mind into 
a state of the most violent excitement. 

One day, the 30th of September, at 3.47 p.m., a telegram, 
transmitted by cable from Valentia (Ireland) to Newfound- 
land and the American mainland, arrived at the address of 
President Barbicane. 

The president tore open the envelope, read the dispatch, 
and, despite his remarkable powers of self-control, his lips 
turned pale and his eyes grew dim, on reading the twenty 
words of this telegram. 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 619 

Here is the text of the dispatch, which figures now in the 
archives of the Gun Club: 


France, Paris, 

30 September, 4 a.m. 

Barbicane, Tampa Town, Florida, United States. 
Substitute for your spherical shell a cylindro-conical 
projectile. I shall go inside. Shall arrive by steamer 
Atlanta. Michel Ardan. 


CHAPTER XVIII 

THE PASSENGER OF THE ATLANTA 

I F THIS astounding news, instead of flying through the 
electric wires, had simply arrived by post in the ordinary 
sealed envelope, Barbicane would not have hesitated a mo- 
ment. He would have held his tongue about it, both as a 
measure of prudence, and in order not to have to reconsider 
his plans. This telegram might be a cover for some jest, 
especially as it came from a Frenchman. What human be- 
ing would ever have conceived the idea of such a journey.^ 
and, if such a person really existed, he must be an idiot, 
whom one would shut up in a lunatic ward, rather than 
within the walls of the projectile. 

The contents of the dispatch, however, speedily became 
known; for the telegraphic ofltcials possessed but little dis- 
cretion, and Michel Ardan’s proposition ran at once 
throughout the several States of the Union. Barbicane, had, 
therefore, no further motive for keeping silence. Conse- 
quently, he called together such of his colleagues as were 
at the moment in Tampa Town, and without any expres- 
sion of his own opinions simply read to them the laconic 
text itself. It was received with every possible variety of 
expressions of doubt, incredulity, and derision from every 
one, with the exception of J. T. Maston, who exclaimed, 
‘Tt is a grand idea, however !” 

When Barbicane originally proposed to send a shot to 


620 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

the moon every one looked upon the enterprise as simple 
and practicable enough — a mere question of gunnery; but 
when a person, professing to be a reasonable being, offered 
to take passage within the projectile, the whole thing be- 
came a farce, or, in plainer language a humbug. 

One question, however, remained. Did such a being exist 
This telegram flashed across the depths of the Atlantic, the 
designation of the vessel on board which he was to take his 
passage, the date assigned for his speedy arrival, all com- 
bined to impart a certain character of reality to the pro- 
posal. They must get some clearer notion of the matter. 
Scattered groups of inquirers at length condensed them- 
selves into a compact crowd, which made straight for the 
residence of President Barbicane. That worthy individual 
was keeping quiet with the intention of watching events as 
they arose. But he had forgotten to take into account the 
public impatience; and it was with no pleasant counte- 
nance that he watched the population of Tampa Town 
gathering under his windows. The murmurs and vocifera- 
tions below presently obliged him to appear. He came for- 
ward, therefore, and on silence being procured, a citizen 
put point-blank to him the following question: ‘Ts the per- 
son mentioned in the telegram, under the name of Michel 
Ardan, on his way here.?^ Yes or no.” 

“Gentlemen,” replied Barbicane, “I know no more than 
you do.” 

“We must know,” roared the impatient voices. 

“Time will show,” calmly replied the president. 

“Time has no business to keep a whole country in sus- 
pense,” replied the orator. “Have you altered the plans 
of the projectile according to the request of the telegram?” 

“Not yet, gentlemen; but you are right! we must have 
better information to go by. The telegraph must complete 
its information.” 

“To the telegraph!” roared the crowd. 

Barbicane descended; and heading the immense assem- 
blage, led the way to the telegraph office. A few minutes 
later a telegram was dispatched to the secretary of the 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 6^1. 

underwriters at Liverpool, requesting answers to the follow' 
ing queries: 

“About the ship Atlanta — when did she leave Europe? 
Had she on board a Frenchman named Michel Ardan?” 

Two hours afterward Barbicane received information too 
exact to leave room for the smallest remaining doubt. 

“The steamer Atlanta from Liverpool put to sea on the 
^d of October, bound for Tampa Town, having on board a 
Erenchman borne on the list of passengers by the name of 
Michel Ardan.” 

That very evening he wrote to the house of Breadwill 
and Co., requesting them to suspend the casting of the pro- 
jectile until the receipt of further orders. On the 10th of 
October, at nine a.m., the semaphores of the Bahama Canal 
signaled a thick smoke on the horizon. Two hours later a 
large steamer exchanged signals with them. The name of 
the Atlanta flew at once over Tampa Town. At four o’clock 
the English vessel entered the Bay of Espiritu Santo. At 
five it crossed the passage of Hillisborough Bay at full 
steam. At six she cast anchor at Port Tampa. The anchor 
had scarcely caught the sandy bottom when five hundred 
boats surrounded the Atlanta, and the steamer was taken 
by assault. Barbicane was the first to set foot on deck, and 
in a voice of which he vainly tried to conceal the emotion, 
called “Michel Ardan.” 

“Here !” replied an individual perched on the poop. 

Barbicane, with arms crossed, looked fixedly at the pas- 
senger of the Atlanta. 

He was a man of about forty-two years of age, of large 
build, but slightly round-shouldered. His massive head 
momentarily shook a shock of reddish hair, which resembled 
a lion’s mane. His face was short with a broad forehead, and 
furnished with a mustache as bristly as a cat’s, and little 
patches of yellowish whiskers upon full cheeks. Round, 
wildish eyes, slightly near-sighted, completed a physiog- 
nomy essentially feline. His nose was firmly shaped, his 
mouth particularly sweet in expression, high forehead, in- 
telligent and furrowed with wrinkles like a newly-plowed 
field. The body was powerfully developed and firmly fixed 


6^2 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

upon long legs. Muscular arms, and a general air of de- 
cision gave him the appearance of a hardy, jolly com- 
panion. He was dressed in a suit of ample dimensions, loose 
neckerchief, open shirtcollar, disclosing a robust neck; his 
cuffs were invariably unbuttoned, through which appeared 
a pair of red hands. 

On the bridge of the steamer, in the midst of the crowd, 
he bustled to and fro, never still for a moment, ‘‘dragging 
his anchors,” as the sailors say, gestkulating, making free 
with everybody, biting his nails with nervous avidity. He 
was one of those originals which nature sometimes invents 
in the freak of a moment, and of which she then breaks the 
mould. 

Among other peculiarities, this curiosity gave himself 
out for a sublime ignoramus, “like Shakespeare,” and pro- 
fessed supreme contempt for all scientific men. Those “fel- 
lows,” as he called them, “are only fit to mark the points, 
while we play the game.” He was, in fact, a thorough Bo- 
hemian, adventurous, but not an adventurer ; a hair-brained 
fellow, a kind of Icarus, only possessing relays of wings. 
For the rest, he was ever in scrapes, ending invariably by 
falling on his feet, like those little pith figures which they 
sell for children’s toys. In two words, his motto was “I have 
my opinions,” and the love of the impossible constituted his 
ruling passion. 

Such was the passenger of the Atlanta, always excitable, 
as if boiling under the action of some internal fire by the 
character of his physical organization. If ever two indi- 
viduals offered a striking contrast to each other, these were 
certainly Michel Ardan and the Yankee Barbicane; both, 
moreover, being equally enterprising and daring, each in 
his ovm way. 

The scrutiny which the president of the Gun Club had 
instituted regarding this new rival was quickly interrupted 
by the shouts and hurrahs of the crowd. The cries became 
at last so uproarious, and the popular enthusiasm assumed 
so personal a form, that Michel Ardan, after having shaken 
hands some thousands of times, at the imminent risk of leav- 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 6^3 

ing his fingers behind him, was fain at last to make a bolt 
for his cabin. 

Barbicane followed him without uttering a word. 

‘‘You are Barbicane, I suppose.?” said Michel Ardan, in 
a tone of voice in which he would have addressed a friend of 
twenty years’ standing. 

“Yes,” replied the president of the Gun Club. 

“All right! how d’ye do, Barbicane.? how are you get- 
ting on — pretty well.? that’s right.” 

“So,” said Barbicane without further preliminary, “you 
are quite determined to go.” 

“Quite decided.” 

“Nothing will stop you.?” 

“Nothing. Have you modified your projectile according 
to my telegram.” 

“I waited for your arrival. But,” asked Barbicane again, 
“have you carefully reflected.?” 

“Reflected.? have I any time to spare.? I find an oppor- 
tunity of making a tour in the moon, and I mean to profit 
by it. There is the whole gist of the matter.” 

Barbicane looked hard at this man who spoke so lightly 
of his project with such complete absence of anxiety. “But, 
at least,” said he, “you have some plans, some means of 
carrying your project into execution.?” 

“Excellent, my dear Barbicane; only permit me to offer 
one remark: My wish is to tell my story once for all, to 
everybody, and then to have done with it; then there will 
be no need for recapitulation. So, if you have no objection, 
assemble your friends, colleagues, the whole town, all Flor- 
ida, all America if you like, and to-morrow I shall be ready 
to explain my plans and answer any objections whatever 
that may be advanced. You may rest assured I shall wait 
without stirring. Will that suit you.?” 

“All right,” replied Barbicane. 

So saying, the president left the cabin and informed the 
crowd of the proposal of Michel Ardan. His words were re- 
ceived with clappings of hands and shouts of joy. They 
had removed all difficulties. To-morrow every one would con- 
template at his ease this European hero. However, some of 


624 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

the spectators, more infatuated than the rest, would not 
leave the deck of the Atlanta. They passed the night on 
board. Among others J. T. Maston got his hook fixed in 
the combing of the poop, and it pretty nearly required the 
capstan to get it out again. 

“He is a hero! a hero!” he cried, a theme of which he 
was never tired of ringing the changes; “and we are only 
like weak, silly women, compared with this European!” 

As to the president, after having suggested to the visitors 
it was time to retire, he re-entered the passenger’s cabin, 
and remained there till the bell of the steamer made it 
midnight. 

But then the two rivals in popularity shook hands heart- 
ily and parted on terms of intimate friendship. 


CHAPTER XIX 

A MONSTER MEETING 

On the following day Barbicane, fearing that indiscreet 
questions might be put to Michel Ardan, was desirous of 
reducing the number of the audience to a few of the initi- 
ated, his own colleagues for instance. He might as well have 
tried to check the Falls of Niagara! he was compelled, 
therefore, to give up the idea, and to let his new friend run 
the chances of a public conference. The place chosen for 
this monster meeting was a vast plain situated in the rear 
of the town. In a few hours, thanks to the help of the ship- 
ping in port, an immense roofing of canvas was stretched 
over the parched prairie, and protected it from the burning 
rays of the sun. There three hundred thousand people 
braved for many hours the stifling heat while awaiting the 
arrival of the Frenchman. Of this crowd of spectators a 
first set could both see and hear ; a second set saw badly and 
heard nothing at all; and as for the third, it could neither 
see nor hear anything at all. At three o’clock Michel Ardan 
made his appearance, accompanied by the principal mem- 
bers of the Gun Club. He was supported on his right by 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 625 

President Barbicane, and on his left by J. T. Maston, more 
radiant than the midday sunj and nearly as ruddy. Ardan 
mounted a platform, from the top of which his view extended 
over a sea of black hats. 

He exhibited not the slightest embarrassment; he was 
just as gay, familiar, and pleasant as if he were at home. 
To the hurrahs which greeted him he replied by a grace- 
ful bow ; then, waving his hand to request silence, he spoke 
in perfectly correct English as follows: 

“Gentlemen, despite the very hot weather I request your 
patience for a short time while I offer some explanations 
regarding the projects which seem to have so interested you. 
I am neither an orator nor a man of science, and I had no 
idea of addressing you in public; but my friend Barbicane 
has told me that you would like to hear me, and I am quite 
at your service. Listen to me, therefore, with your six hun- 
dred thousand ears, and please to excuse the faults of the 
speaker. Now pray do not forget that you see before you 
a perfect ignoramus whose ignorance goes so far that he 
cannot even understand the difficulties! It seemed to him 
that it was a matter quite simple, natural, and easy to take 
one’s place in a projectile and start for the moon! That 
journey must be undertaken sooner or later; and, as for the 
mode of locomotion adopted, it follows simply the law of 
progress. Man began by walking on all-fours ; then, one fine 
day, on two feet ; then in a carriage ; then in a stage-coach ; 
and lastly by railway. Well, the projectile is the vehicle of 
the future, and the planets themselves are nothing else! 
Now some of you, gentlemen, may imagine that the velocity 
we propose to impart to it is extravagant. It is nothing of 
the kind. All the stars exceed it in rapidity, and the earth 
herself is at this moment carrying us round the sun at three 
times as rapid a rate, and yet she is a mere lounger on the 
way compared with many others of the planets! And her 
velocity is constantly decreasing. Is it not evident, then, I 
ask you, that there wiU some day appear velocities far 
greater than these, of which light or electricity will probably 
be the mechanical agent.? 

“Yes, gentlemen,” continued the orator, “in spite of the 


626 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

opinions of certain narrow-minded people, who would shut 
up the human race upon this globe, as witliin some magic 
circle which it must never outstep, we shall one day travel 
to the moon, the planets, and the stars, with the same facil- 
ity, rapidity, and certainty as we now make the voyage 
from Liverpool to New York! Distance is but a relative 
expression, and must end by being reduced to zero.” 

The assembly, strongly predisposed as they were in favor 
of the French hero, were slightly staggered at this bold 
theory. Michel Ardan perceived the fact. 

“Gentlemen,” he continued with a pleasant smile, “you 
do not seem quite convinced. Very good! Let us reason the 
matter out. Do you know how long it w^ould take for an 
express train to reach the moon ? Three hundred days ; no 
more! And what is that.? The distance is no more than 
nine times the circumference of the earth; and there are no 
sailors or travelers, of even moderate activity, who have not 
made longer journeys than that in their lifetime. And now 
consider that I shall be only ninety-seven hours on my 
journey. Ah! I see you are reckoning that the moon is a 
long way off from the earth, and that one must think twice 
before making the experiment. What would you say, then, 
if we were talking of going to Neptune, which revolves at a 
distance of more than two thousand seven hundred and 
twenty millions of miles from the sun ! And yet wLat is that 
compared with the distance of the fixed stars, some of which, 
such as Arcturus, are billions of miles distant from us.? And 
then you talk of the distance which separates the planets 
from the sun ! And there are people who affirm that such a 
thing as distance exists. Absurdity, folly, idiotic nonsense! 
Would you know what I think of our own solar universe.? 
Shall I tell you my theory .? It is very simple ! In my opin- 
ion the solar system is a solid homogeneous body ; the plan- 
ets which compose it are in actual contact with each other; 
and whatever space exists between them is nothing more 
than the space which separates the molecules of the densest 
metal, such as silver, iron, or platinum! I have the right, 
therefore, to affirm, and I repeat, with the conviction which 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 627 

must penetrate all your minds, ‘Distance is but an empty 
name ; distance does not really exist !’ ” 

“Hurrah!” cried one voice (need it be said it was that 
of J. T. Maston). “Distance does not exist!” And overcome 
by the energy of his movements, he nearly fell from the 
platform to the ground. He just escaped a severe fall, which 
would have proved to him that distance was by no means 
an empty name. 

“Gentlemen,” resumed the orator, “I repeat that the dis- 
tance between the earth and her satellite is a mere trifle, 
and undeserving of serious consideration. I am convinced 
that before twenty years are over one-half of our earth will 
have paid a visit to the moon. Now, my worthy friends, if 
you have any question to put to me, you will, I fear, sadly 
embarrass a poor man like myself ; still I will do my best 
to answer you.” 

Up to this point the president of the Gun Club had been 
satisfied with the turn which the discussion had assumed. 
It became now, however, desirable to divert Ardan from 
ques‘tions of a practical nature, with which he was doubtless 
far less conversant. Barbicane, therefore, hastened to get 
in a word, and began by asking his new friend whether he 
thought that the moon and the planets were inhabited. 

“You put before me a great problem, my worthy presi- 
dent,” replied the orator, smiling. “Still, men of great 
intelligence, such as Plutarch, Sw^edenborg, Bernardin de 
St. Pierre, and others have, if I mistake not, pronounced 
in the affirmative. Looking at the question from the natural 
philosopher’s point of view, I should say that nothing use- 
less existed in the world ; and, replying to your question by 
another, I should venture to assert, that if these worlds are 
habitable, they either are, have been, or will be inhabited.” 

“No one could answer more logically or fairly,” replied 
the president. “The question then reverts to this: Are these 
worlds habitable.? For my own part I believe they are.” 

“For myself, I feel certain of it,” said Michel Ardan. 

“Nevertheless,” retorted one of the audience, “there are 
many arguments against the habitability of the worlds. The 
conditions of life must evidently be greatly modified upon 


628 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

the majority of them. To mention only the planets, we 
should be either broiled alive in some, or frozen to death in 
others, according as they are more or less removed from the 
sun.” 

“I regret,” replied Michel Ardan, “that I have not the 
honor, of personally knowing my contradictor, for I would 
have attempted to answer him. His objection has its merits, 
I admit ; but I think we may successfully combat it, as well 
as all others which affect the habitability of the other worlds. 
If I were a natural philosopher, I would tell him that if 
less of caloric were set in motion upon the planets which 
are nearest to the sun, and more, on the contrary, upon 
those which are farthest removed from it, this simple fact 
would alone suffice to equalize the heat, and to render the 
temperature of those worlds supportable by being organized 
like ourselves. If I were a naturalist, I would tell him that, 
according to some illustrious men of science, nature has 
furnished us with instances upon the earth of animals exist- 
ing under very varying conditions of life; that fish respire 
in a medium fatal to other animals ; that amphibious crea- 
tures possess a double existence very difficult of explanation ; 
that certain denizens of the seas maintain life at enormous 
depths, and there support a pressure equal to that of fifty 
or sixty atmospheres withjut being crushed; that several 
aquatic insects, insensible to temperature, are met with 
equally among boiling springs and in the frozen plains of 
the Polar Sea; in fine, that we cannot help recognizing in 
nature a diversity of means of operation oftentimes incom- 
prehensible, but not the less real. If I were chemist, I 
would tell him that the aerolites, bodies evidently formed 
exteriorly of our terrestrial globe, have, upon analysis, re- 
vealed indisputable traces of carbon, a substance which 
owes its origin solely to organized beings, and which, ac- 
cording to the experiments of Reichenbach, must necessarily 
itself have been endued with animation. And lastly, were I 
a theologian, I would tell him that the scheme of the Divine 
Redemption, according to St. Paul, seems to be applicable, 
not merely to the earth, but to all the celestial worlds. But, 
unfortunately, I am neither theologian, nor chemist, nor 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 6^9 

naturalist, nor philosopher; therefore, in my absolute ig- 
norance of the great laws which govern the universe, I con- 
fine myself to saying in reply, ‘I do not know whether the 
worlds are inhabited or not: and since I do not know, I am 
going to see !’ ” 

Whether Michel Ar dan’s antagonist hazarded any fur- 
ther arguments or not it is impossible to say, for the up- 
roarious shouts of the crowd would not allow any expression 
of opinion to gain a hearing. On silence being restored, the 
triumphant orator contented himself with adding the fol- 
lowing remarks : 

“Gentlemen, you will observe that I have but slightly 
touched upon this great question. There is another alto- 
gether different line of argument in favor of the habita- 
bility of the stars, which I omit for the present. I only de- 
sire to call attention to one point. To those who maintain 
that the planets are not inhabited one may reply : You might 
be perfectly in the right, if you could only show that the 
earth is the best possible world, spite of what Voltaire has 
said. She has but one satellite, while Jupiter, Uranus, Sat- 
urn, Neptune have each several, an advantage by no means 
to be despised. But that which renders our own globe so 
uncomfortable is the inclination of its axis to the plane of 
its orbit. Hence the inequality of days and nights; hence 
the disagreeable diversity of the seasons. On the surface of 
our unhappy spheroid we are always either too hot or too 
cold; we are frozen in winter, broiled in summer; it is the 
planet of rheumatism, coughs, bronchitis; while on the sur- 
face of Jupiter, for example, where the axis is but slightly 
inclined, the inhabitants may enjoy uniform temperatures. 
It possesses zones of perpetual springs, summers, autumns, 
and winters; every Jovian may choose for himself what cli- 
mate he likes, and there spend the whole of his life in secur- 
ity from all variations of temperature. You will, I am sure, 
readily admit this superiority of Jupiter over our own 
planet, to say nothing of his years, which each equal twelve 
of ours ! Under such auspices and such marvelous conditions 
of existence, it appears to me that the inhabitants of so 


630 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

fortunate a world must be in every respect superior to our- 
selves. All we require, in order to attain to such perfection, 
is the mere trifle of having an axis of rotation less inclined 
to the plane of its orbit !” 

“Hurrah!” roared an energetic voice, “let us unite our 
efforts, invent the necessary machines, and rectify the 
earth’s axis!” 

A thunder of applause followed this proposal, the author 
of which was, of course, no other than J. T. Maston. And, 
in all probability, if the truth must be told, if the Yankees 
could only have found a point of application for it, they 
would have constructed a lever capable of raising the earth 
and rectifying its axis. It was just this deficiency which 
baffled these daring mechanicians. 


CHAPTER XX 

ATTACK AND RIPOSTE 

As SOON as the excitement had subsided, the following 
words were heard uttered in a strong and determined voice : 

“Now that the speaker has favored us with so much 
imagination, would he be so good as to return to his sub- 
ject, and give us a little practical view of the question?” 

All eyes were directed toward the person who spoke. He 
was a little dried-up man, of an active figure, with an 
American “goatee” beard. Profiting by the different move- 
ments in the crowd, he had managed by degrees to gain 
the front row of spectators. There, with arms crossed and 
stern gaze, he watched the hero of the meeting. After having 
put his question he remained silent, and appeared to take 
no notice of the thousands of looks directed toward himself, 
nor of the murmur of disapprobation excited by his words. 
Meeting at first with no reply, he repeated his question with 
marked emphasis, adding, “We are here to talk about the 
moon and not about the earth T 

“You are right, sir,” replied Michel Ardan; “the dis- 
cussion has become irregular. We will return to the moon.” 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 631 

‘‘Sir,” said the unknown, “you pretend that our satellite 
is inhabited. Very good; but if Selenites do exist, that race 
of beings assuredly must live without breathing, for — I 
warn you for your own sake — there is not the smallest par- 
ticle of air on the surface of the moon.” 

At this remark Ardan pushed up his shock of red hair; 
he saw that he was on the point of being involved in a 
struggle with this person upon the very gist of the whole 
question. He looked sternly at him in his turn and said: 

“Oh! so there is no air in the moon? And pray, if you 
are so good, who ventures to affirm that?” 

“The men of science.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

“Sir,” replied Michel, “pleasantry apart, I have a pro- 
found respect for men of science who do possess science, 
but a profound contempt for men of science who do not.” 

“Do you know any who belong to the latter category?” 

“Decidedly. In France there are some who maintain that, 
mathematically, a bird cannot possibly fly ; and others who 
demonstrate theoretically that fishes were never made to 
live in water.” 

“I have nothing to do with persons of that description, 
and I can quote, in support of my statement, names which 
you cannot refuse deference to.” 

“Then, sir, you will sadly embarrass a poor ignorant, who, 
besides, asks nothing better than to learn.” 

“Why, then, do you introduce scientific questions if you 
have never studied them?” asked the unknown somewhat 
coarsely. 

“For the reason that ‘he is always brave who never sus- 
pects danger.’ I know nothing, it is true ; but it is precisely 
my very weakness which constitutes my strength.” 

“Your weakness amounts to folly,” retorted the unknown 
in a passion. 

“All the better,” replied our Frenchman, “if it carries 
me up to the moon.” 

Barbicane and his colleagues devoured with their eyes 


632 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

the intruder who had so boldly placed himself in antago- 
nism to their enterprise. Nobody knew him, and the presi- 
dent, uneasy as to the result of so free a discussion, watched 
his new friend with some anxiety. The meeting began to be 
somewhat fidgety also, for the contest directed their atten- 
tion to the dangers, if not the actual impossibilities, of the 
proposed expedition. 

“Sir,” replied Ardan’s antagonist, “there are many and 
incontrovertible reasons which prove the absence of an at- 
mosphere in the moon. I might say that, a priori, if one 
ever did exist, it must have been absorbed by the earth ; but 
I prefer to bring forward indisputable facts.” 

“Bring them forward then, sir, as many as you please.” 

“You know",” said the stranger, “that when any luminous 
rays cross a medium such as the air, they are deflected out 
of the straight line; in other words, they undergo refrac- 
tion. Well! When stars are occulted by the moon, their rays, 
on grazing the edge of her disc, exhibit not the least devi- 
ation, nor offer the slightest indication of refraction. It 
follows, therefore, that the moon cannot be surrounded by 
an atmosphere.” 

“In point of fact,” replied Ardan, “this is your chief, 
if not your only argument; and a really scientific man 
might be puzzled to answ-er it. For myself, I will simply 
say that it is defective, because it assumes that the angular 
diameter of the moon has been completely determined, 
which is not the case. But let us proceed. Tell me, my dear 
sir, do you admit the existence of volcanoes on the moon’s 
surface?” 

“Extinct, yes! In activity, no!” 

“These volcanoes, however, were at one time in a state 
of activity?” 

“True! but, as they furnish themselves the oxygen neces- 
sary for combustion, the mere fact of their eruption does 
not prove the presence of an atmosphere.” 

“Proceed again, then ; and let us set aside this class of 
arguments in order to come to direct observations. In 1715 
the astronomers Louville and Halley, watching the eclipse 


IROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 633 

of the 3d of May, remarked some very extraordinary scin- 
tillations. These jets of light, rapid in nature, and of fre- 
quent recurrence, they attributed to thunderstorms gene- 
rated in the lunar atmosphere.” 

“In 1715,” replied the unknown, “the astronomers Lou- 
ville and Halley mistook for lunar phenomena some which 
were purely terrestrial, such as meteoric or other bodies 
which are generated in our own atmosphere. This was the 
scientific explanation at the time of the facts; and that is 
my answer now.” 

“On again, then,” replied Ardan; “Herschel, in 1787, 
observed a great number of luminous points on the moon’s 
surface, did he not?” 

“Yes ! but without offering any solution of them. Herschel 
himself never inferred from them the necessity of a lunar 
atmosphere. And I maj^ add that Baser and Maedler, the 
two great authorities upon the moon, are quite agreed as 
to the entire absence of air on its surface.” 

A movement was here manifest among the assemblage, 
who appeared to be growing excited by the arguments of 
this singular personage. 

“Let us proceed,” replied Ardan, with perfect coolness, 
“and come to one important fact. A skillful French astrono- 
mer, M. Laussedat, in watching the eclipse of July 18, 1860, 
proved that the horns of the solar crescent were rounded 
and truncated. Now, this appearance could only have been 
produced by a deviation of the solar rays in traversing the 
atmosphere of the moon. There is no other possible explana- 
tion of the fact.” 

“But is this established as a fact?” 

“Absolutely certain !” 

A counter-movement here took place in favor of the hero 
of the meeting, whose opponent was now reduced to silence. 
Ardan resumed the conversation; and, without exhibit- 
ing any exultation at the advantage he had gained, simply 
said : 

“You see, then, my dear sir, we must not pronounce with 
absolute positiveness against the existence of an atmosphere 


634 } FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

in the moon. That atmosphere is, probably, of extreme rar- 
ity; nevertheless at the present day science generally ad- 
mits that it exists.” 

‘‘Not in the mountains, at all events,” returned the un- 
known, unwilling to give in. 

“No ! but at the bottom of the valleys, and not exceeding 
a few hundred feet in height.” 

“In any case you will do well to take every precaution, 
for the air will be terribly rarified.” 

“My good sir, there will always be enough for a solitary 
individual; besides, once arrived up there, I shall do my 
best to economize, and not to breathe except on grand 
occasions !” 

A tremendous roar of laughter rang in the ears of the 
mysterious interlocutor, who glared fiercely round upon the 
assembly. 

“Then,” continued Ardan, with a careless air, “since we 
are in accord regarding the presence of a certain atmos- 
phere, we are forced to admit the presence of a certain quan- 
tity of water. This is a happy consequence for me. More- 
over, my amiable contradictor, permit me to submit to you 
one further observation. We only know one side of the 
moon’s disc; and if there is but little air on the face pre- 
sented to us, it is possible that there is plenty on the one 
turned away from us.” 

“And for what reason.?” 

“Because the moon, under the action of the earth’s at- 
traction, has assumed the form of an egg, which we look at 
from the smaller end. Hence it follows, by Hausen’s calcu- 
lations, that its center of gravity is situated in the other 
hemisphere. Hence it results that the great mass of air and 
water must have been drawn away to the other face of our 
satellite during the first days of its creation.” 

“Pure fancies !” cried the unknown. 

“No! Pure theories! which are based upon the laws of 
mechanics, and it seems difficult to me to refute them. I 
appeal then to this meeting, and I put it to them whether 
life, such as exists upon the earth, is possible on the surface 
of the moon.?” 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 635 

Three hundred thousand auditors at once applauded the 
proposition. Ardan’s opponent tried to get in another word, 
but he could not obtain a hearing. Cries and menaces fell 
upon him like hail. 

“Enough! enough!” cried some. 

“Drire the intruder off !” shouted others. 

“Turn him out!” roared the exasperated crowd. 

But he, holding firmly on to the platform, did not budge 
an inch, and let the storm pass on, which would soon have 
assumed formidable proportions, if Michel Ardan had not 
quieted it by a gesture. He was too chivalrous to abandon 
his opponent in an apparent extremity. 

“You wished to say a few more words?” he asked, in a 
pleasant voice. 

“Yes, a thousand ; or rather, no, only one ! If you perse- 
vere in your enterprise, you must be a ” 

“Very rash person! How can you treat me as such? me, 
who have demanded a cylindro-conical projectile, in order 
to prevent turning round and round on my way like a 
squirrel?” 

“But, unhappy man, the dreadful recoil will smash you 
to pieces at your starting.” 

“My dear contradictor, you have just put your finger 
upon the true and the only difficulty; nevertheless, I have 
too good an opinion of the industrial genius of the Ameri- 
cans not to believe that they will suceed in overcoming it.” 

“But the heat developed by the rapidity of the projectile 
in crossing the strata of air?” 

“Oh! the walls are thick, and I shall soon have crossed 
the atmosphere.” 

“But victuals and water?” 

“I have calculated for a twelvemonth’s supply, and I 
shall be only four days on the journey.” 

“But for air to breathe on the road?” 

“I shall make it by chemical process.” 

“But your fall on the moon, supposing you ever reach 
it?” 


636 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

“It will be six times less dangerous than a sudden fall 
upon the earth, because the weight will be only one-sixth 
as great on the surface of the moon.” 

“Still it will be enough to smash you like glass !” 

“What is to prevent my retarding the shock by means 
of rockets conveniently placed, and lighted at the right 
moment.^” 

“But after all, supposing all difficulties surmounted, all 
obstacles removed, supposing everything combined to favor 
you, and granting that you may arrive safe and sound in 
the moon, how will you come back.?^” 

“I am not coming back!” 

At this reply, almost sublime in its very simplicity, the 
assembly became silent. But its silence was more eloquent 
than could have been its cries of enthusiasm. The unknown 
profited by the opportunity and once more protested: 

“You will inevitably kill yourself!” he cried; “and your 
death will be that of a madman, useless even to science!” 

“Go on, my dear unknown, for truly your prophecies are 
most agreeable!” 

“It really is too much !” cried Michel Ardan’s adversary. 
“I do not know why I should continue so frivolous a discus- 
sion ! Please yourself about this insane expedition ! We need 
not trouble ourselves about you !” 

“Pray don’t stand upon ceremony!” 

“No! another person is responsible for your act.” 

“Who, may I ask.?” demanded Michel Ardan in an im- 
perious tone. 

“The ignoramus who organized this equally absurd and 
impossible experiment !” 

The attack was direct. Barbicane, ever since the inter- 
ference of the unkno^vn, had been making fearful efforts of 
self-control ; now, however, seeing himself directly attacked, 
he could restrain himself no longer. He rose suddenly, and 
was rushing upon the enemy who thus braved him to the 
face, when all at once he found himself separated from him. 

The platform was lifted by a hundred strong arms, and 
the president of the Gun Club shared with Michel Ardan 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 637 

triumplial honors. The shield was heavy, but the bearers 
came in continuous relays, disputing, struggling, even fight- 
ing among themselves in their eagerness to lend their 
shoulders to this demonstration. 

However, the unknown had not profited by the tumult 
to quit his post. Besides he could not have done it in the 
midst of that compact crowd. There he held on in the front 
row with crossed arms, glaring at President Barbicane. 

The shouts of the immense crowd continued at their high- 
est pitch throughout this triumphant march. Michel Ardan 
took it all with evident pleasure. His face gleamed with de- 
light. Several times the platform seemed seized with pitch- 
ing and rolling like a weatherbeaten ship. But the two heroes 
of the meeting had good sea-legs. They never stumbled ; and 
their vessel arrived without dues at the port of Tampa 
Town. 

Michel Ardan managed fortunately to escape from the 
last embraces of his vigorous admirers. He made for the 
Hotel Franklin, quickly gained his chamber, and slid under 
the bedclothes, while an army of a hundred thousand men 
kept watch under his windows. 

During this time a scene, short, grave, and decisive, took 
place between the mysterious personage and the president 
of the Gun Club. 

Barbicane, free at last, had gone straight at his adver- 
sary. 

“Come!” he said shortly. 

The other followed him on the quay; and the two pres- 
ently found themselves alone at the entrance of an open 
wharf on Jones’ Fall. 

The two enemies, still mutually unknown, gazed at each 
other. 

“Who are you.^” asked Barbicane. 

“Captain Nicholl!” 

“So I suspected. Hitherto chance has never thrown you 
in my way.” 

“I am come for that purpose.” 

“You have insulted me.” 


638 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 


‘Tublicly!” 

“And you will answer to me for this insult?” 

“At this very moment.” 

“No! I desire that all that passes between us shall be 
secret. There is a wood situated three miles from Tampa, 
the wood of Skersnaw. Do you know it?” 

“I know it.” 

“Will you be so good as to enter it to-morrow morning 
at five o’clock, on one side?” 

“Yes I if you will enter at the other side at the same 
hour.” 

“And you will not forget your rifle?” said Barbicane. 

“No more than you will forget yours?” replied Nicholl. 

These words having been coldly spoken, the president of 
the Gun Club and the captain parted. Barbicane returned 
to his lodging; but, instead of snatching a few hours of re- 
pose, he passed the night in endeavoring to discover a means 
of evading the recoil of the projectile, and resolving the 
difficult problem proposed by Michel Ardan during the dis- 
cussion at the meeting. 


CHAPTER XXI 

HOW A FRENCHMAN MANAGES AN AFFAIR 

w HiLE the contract of this duel was being discussed by 
the president and the captain — this dreadful, savage duel, 
in which each adversary became a man-hunter — Michel 
Ardan was resting from the fatigues of his triumph. Rest- 
ing is hardly an appropriate expression, for American beds 
rival marble or granite tables for hardness. 

Ardan was sleeping, then, badly enough, tossing about 
between the cloths which served him for sheets, and he was 
dreaming of making a more comfortable couch in his pro- 
jectile when a frightful noise disturbed his dreams. 
Thundering blows shook his door. They seemed to be caused 
by some iron instrument. A great deal of loud talking was 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 639 

distinguishable in this racket, which was rather too early in 
the morning. “Open the door,” some one shrieked, “for 
heaven’s sake !” Ardan saw no reason for complying with a 
demand so roughly expressed. However, he got up and 
opened the door just as it was giving way before the blows 
of this determined visitor. The secretary of the Gun Club 
burst into the room. A bomb could not have made more 
noise or have entered the room with less ceremony. 

“Last night,” cried J. T. Maston, ex ahrupto, “our presi- 
dent was publicly insulted during the meeting. He pro- 
voked his adversary, who is none other than Captain 
NichoU! They are fighting this morning in the wood of 
Skersnaw. I heard all particulars from the mouth of Bar- 
bicane himself. If he is killed, then our scheme is at an end. 
We must prevent this duel; and one man alone has enough 
influence over Barbicane to stop him, and that man is Michel 
Ardan.” 

While J. T. Maston was speaking, Michel Ardan, with- 
out interrupting him, had hastily put on his clothes; and, 
in less than two minutes, the two friends were making for 
the suburbs of Tampa Town with rapid strides. 

It was during this walk that Maston told Ardan the state 
of the case. He hold him the real causes of the hostility be- 
tween Barbicane and Nicholl; how it was of old date, and 
why, thanks to unknown friends, the president and the cap- 
tain had, as yet, never met face to face. He added that it 
arose simply from a rivalry between iron plates and shot, 
and, finally, that the scene at the meeting was only the 
long-wished-for opportunity for Nicholl to pay off an old 
grudge. 

Nothing is more dreadful than private duels in America. 
The two adversaries attack each other like wild beasts. Then 
it is that they might well covet those wonderful properties 
of the Indians of the prairies — their quick intelligence, 
their ingenious cunning, their scent of the enemy. A single 
mistake, a moment’s hesitation, a single false step may 
cause death. On these occasions Yankees are often accom- 
panied by their dogs, and keep up the struggle for hours. 


640 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

“What demons you are!” cried Michel Ardan, when his 
companion had depicted this scene to him with much energy. 

“Yes, we are,” replied J. T. modestly ; “but we had better 
make haste.” 

Though Michel Ardan and he had crossed the plains still 
wet with dew, and had taken the shortest route over creeks 
and ricefields, they could not reach Skersnaw under five 
hours and a half. 

Barbicane must have passed the border half an hour ago. 

There was an old bushman working there, occupied in 
selling fagots from trees that had been leveled by his axe. 

Maston ran toward him, saying, “Have you seen a man 
go into the wood, armed with a rifle Barbicane, the presi- 
dent, my best friend.?” 

The worthy secretary of the Gun Club thought that his 
president must be known by all the world. But the bush- 
man did not seem to understand him. 

“A hunter.?” said Ardan. 

“A hunter.? Yes,” replied the bushman. 

“Long ago.?” 

“About an hour.” 

“Too late!” cried Maston. 

“Have you heard any gunshots.?” asked Ardan. 

“No!” 

“Not one.?” 

“Not one! that hunter did not look as if he knew how 
to hunt!” 

“What is to be done.?” said Maston. 

“We must go into the wood, at the risk of getting a ball 
which is not intended for us.” 

“Ah!” cried Maston, in a tone which could not be mis- 
taken, “I would rather have twenty balls in my own head 
than one in Barbicane’s.” 

“Forward, then,” said Ardan, pressing his companion’s 
hand. 

A few moments later the two friends had disappeared in 
the copse. It was a dense thicket, in which rose huge cy- 
presses, sycamores, tulip-trees, olives, tamarinds, oaks, and 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

magnolias. These different trees had interwoven their 
branches into an inextricable maze, through which the eye 
could not penetrate. Michel Ardan and Maston walked side 
by side in silence through the tall grass, cutting themselves 
a path through the strong creepers, casting curious glances 
on the bushes, and momentarily expecting to hear the sound 
of rifles. As for the traces which Barbicane ought to have 
left of his passage through the wood, there was not a vestige 
of tliem visible: so they followed the barely perceptible 
paths along which Indians had tracked some enemy, and 
which the dense foliage darkly overshadowed. 

After an hour spent in vain pursuit the two stopped in 
intensified anxiety. 

“It must be all over,” said Maston, discouraged. “A man 
like Barbicane would not dodge with his enemy, or ensnare 
him, would not even maneuver! He is too open, too brave. 
He has gone straight ahead, right into the danger, and 
doubtless far enough from the bushman for the wind to pre- 
vent his hearing the report of the rifles.” 

“But surely,” replied Michel Ardan, “since we entered 
the wood we should have heard!” 

“And what if we canie too late.?^” cried Maston in tones 
of despair. 

For once Ardan had no reply to make, he and Maston 
resuming their walk in silence. From time to time, indeed, 
they raised great shouts, calling alternately Barbicane and 
Nicholl, neither of whom, however, answered their cries. 
Only the birds, awakened by the sound, flew past them and 
disappeared among the branches, while some frightened deer 
fled precipitately before them. 

For another hour their search was continued. The greater 
part of the wood had been explored. There was nothing to 
reveal the presence of the combatants. The information of 
the bushman was after all doubtful, and Ardan was about 
to propose their abandoning this useless pursuit, when all 
at once Maston stopped. 

“Hush !” said he, “there is some one down there !” 

“Some one.f^” repeated Michel Ardan. 


642 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

“Yes ; a man ! He seems motionless. His rifle is not in his 
hands. What can he be doing 

“But can you recognize him.^” asked Ardan, whose short 
sight was of little use to him in such circumstances. 

“Yes! yes! He is turning toward us,” answered Maston. 

“And it is.?” 

^‘Captain Nicholl!” 

“NicholL?” cried Michel Ardan, feeling a terrible pang 
of grief. 

“Nicholl unarmed! He has, then, no longer any fear of 
his adversary!” 

“Let us go to him,” said Michel Ardan, “and find out the 
truth.” 

But he and his companion had barely taken fifty steps, 
when they paused to examine the captain more attentively. 
They expected to find a bloodthirsty man, happy in his 
revenge. 

On seeing him, they remained stupefied. 

A net, composed of very fine meshes, hung between two 
enormous tulip-trees, and in the midst of this snare, with its 
wings entangled, was a poor little bird, uttering pitiful 
cries, while it vainly struggled to escape. The bird-catcher 
who had laid this snare was no human being, but a venom- 
ous spider, peculiar to that country, as large as a pigeon’s 
egg, and armed with enormous claws. The hideous creature, 
instead of rushing on its prey, had beaten a sudden retreat 
and taken refuge in the upper branches of the tulip-tree^ 
for a formidable enemy menaced its stronghold. 

Here, then, was Nicholl, his gun on the ground, forget- 
ful of danger, trying if possible to save the victim from its 
cobweb prison. At last it was accomplished, and the little 
bird flew joyfully away and disappeared. 

Nicholl lovingly watched its flight, when he heard these 
words pronounced by a voice full of emotion: 

“You are indeed a brave man.” 

He turned. Michel Ardan was before him, repeating in 
a different tone: 

“And a kindhearted one!” 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 64)3 

“Michel Ardan!” cried the captain. “Why are you here.^” 

“To press your hand, Nicholl, and to prevent you from 
either killing Barbicane or being killed by him.” 

“Barbicane!” returned the captain. “I have been looking 
for him for the last two hours in vain. Where is he hiding.?” 

“Nicholl !” said Michel Ardan, “this is not courteous! we 
ought always to treat an adversary with respect; rest as- 
sured if Barbicane is still alive we shall find him all the more 
easily; because if he has not, like you, been amusing him- 
self with freeing oppressed birds, he must be looking for 
you. When we have found him, Michel Ardan tells you 
this, there will be no duel between you.” 

“Between President Barbicane and myself,” gravely re- 
plied Nicholl, “there is a rivalry which the death of one 
of us ” 

“Pooh, pooh!” said Ardan. “Brave fellows like you in- 
deed! you shall not fight!” 

“I will fight, sir!” 

“No!” 

“Captain,” said J. T. Maston, with much feeling, “I am 
a friend of the president’s, his alter ego, his second self ; if 
you really must kill some one, shoot me! it will do just as 
well !” 

“Sir,” Nicholl replied, seizing his rifle convulsively, 
“these jokes ” 

“Our friend Maston is not joking,” replied Ardan. “I 
fully understand his idea of being killed himself in order 
to save his friend. But neither he nor Barbicane will fall 
before the balls of Captain Nicholl. Indeed I have so attrac- 
tive a proposal to make to the two rivals, that both will be 
eager to accept it.” 

“What is it.?” asked Nicholl with manifest incredulity. 

“Patience!” exclaimed Ardan. “I can only reveal it in 
the presence of Barbicane.” 

“Let us go in search of him then!” cried the captain. 

The three men started off at once; the captain having 
discharged his rifle threw it over his shoulder, and advanced 
in silence. Another half-hour passed, and the pursuit was 


644 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

still fruitless. Maston was oppressed by sinister forebodings. 
He looked fiercely at Nicholl, asking himself whether the 
captain’s vengeance had been already satisfied, and the un- 
fortunate Barbicane, shot, was perhaps lying dead on some 
bloody track. The same thought seemed to occur to Ardan ; 
and both were casting inquiring glances on Nicholl, when 
suddenly Maston paused. 

The motionless figure of a man leaning against a gigantic 
catalpa twenty feet off appeared, half -veiled by the foliage. 

‘Tt is he!” said Maston. 

Barbicane never moved. Ardan looked at the captain, 
but he did not wince. Ardan went forward crying : 

“Barbicane ! Barbicane I” 

No answer! Ardan rushed toward his friend; but in the 
act of seizing his arms, he stopped short and uttered a cry 
of surprise. 

Barbicane, pencil in hand, was tracing geometrical fig- 
ures in a memorandum book, while his unloaded rifle lay be- 
side him on the ground. 

Absorbed in his studies, Barbicane, in his turn forgetful 
of the duel, had seen and heard nothing. 

When Ardan took his hand, he looked up and stared at 
his visitor in astonishment. 

“Ah, it is you!” he cried at last. “I have found it, my 
friend, I have found it!” 

“What.?” 

“My plan!” 

“What plan?” 

“The plan for counteracting the effect of the shock at 
the departure of the projectile!” 

“Indeed?” said Michel Ardan, looking at the captain out 
of the corner of his eye. 

“Yes! water! simply water, which will act as a spring 
— ah! Maston,” cried Barbicane, “you here also?” 

“Himself,” replied Ardan; “and permit me to introduce 
to you at the same time the worthy Captain Nicholl!” 

“Nicholl!” cried Barbicane, who jumped up at once. 
“Pardon me, captain, I had quite forgotten — I am ready !” 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 645 

IMichel Ardan interfered, without giving the two enemies 
time to say anything more. 

“Thank heaven !” said he. “It is a happy thing that brave 
men like you two did not meet sooner ! we should now have 
been mourning for one or other of you. But, thanks to 
Providence, which has interfered, there is now no further 
cause for alarm. When one forgets one’s anger in mechanics 
or in cobwebs, it is a sign that the anger is not dangerous.” 

Michel Ardan then told the president how the captain 
had been found occupied. 

“I put it to you now,” said he in conclusion, “are two 
such good fellows as you are made on purpose to smash each 
other’s skulls with shot.^” 

There was in “the situation” somewhat of the ridiculous, 
something quite unexpected ; Michel Ardan saw this, and 
determined to effect a reconciliation. 

“My good friends,” said he, with his most bewitching 
smile, “this is nothing but a misunderstanding. Nothing 
more! well! to prove that it is all over between you, accept 
frankly the proposal I am going to make to you.” 

“Make it,” said Nicholl. 

“Our friend Bar bicane believes that his projectile will 
go straight to the moon.^” 

“Yes, certainly,” replied the president. 

“And our friend Nicholl is persuaded it will fall back 
upon the earth 

“I am certain of it,” cried the captain. 

“Good!” said Ardan. “I cannot pretend to make you 
agree; but I suggest this: Go with me, and so see whether 
we are stopped on our journey.” 

“What.?” exclaimed J. T. Maston, stupefied. 

The two rivals, on this sudden proposal, looked steadily 
at each other. Bar bicane waited for the captain’s answer. 
Nicholl watched for the decision of the president. 

“Well.?” said Michel. “There is now no fear of the 
shock !” 

“Done!” cried Barbicane. 

But quickly as he pronounced the word, he was not be- 
fore Nicholl. 


646 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 


“Hurrah! bravo! hip! hip! hurrah!” cried Michel, giv- 
ing a hand to each of the late adversaries. “Now that it is 
all settled, my friends, allow me to treat you after French 
fashion. Let us be off to breakfast!” 


CHAPTER XXII 

THE NEW CITIZEN OF THE UNITED STATES 

T HAT same day all America heard of the affair of Captain 
Nicholl and President Barbicane, as well as its singular 
denouement. From that day forth, Michel Ardan had not 
one moment’s rest. Deputations from all corners of the 
Union harassed him without cessation or intermission. He 
was compelled to receive them all, whether he would or no. 
How many hands he shook, how many people he was “hail- 
fellow-well-met” with, it is impossible to guess ! Such a 
triumphal result would have intoxicated any other man ; but 
he managed to keep himself in a state of delightful semi- 
tipsiness. 

Among the deputations of all kinds which assailed him, 
that of “The Lunatics” were careful not to forget what they 
owed to the future conqueror of the moon. One day, certain 
of these poor people, so numerous in America, came to call 
upon him, and requested permission to return with him to 
their native country. 

“Singular hallucination!” said he to Barbicane, after 
having dismissed the deputation with promises to convey 
numbers of messages to friends in the moon. “Do you believe 
in the influence of the moon upon distempers.?” 

“Scarcely !” 

“No more do I, despite some remarkable recorded facts 
of history. For instance, during an epidemic in 1693, a 
large number of persons died at the very moment of an 
eclipse. The celebrated Bacon always fainted during an 
eclipse. Charles VI relapsed six times into madness during 
the year 1399, sometimes during the new, sometimes during 
the full moon. Gall observed that insane persons underwent 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 647 

an accession of their disorder twice in every month, at the 
epochs of new and full moon. In fact, numerous observations 
made upon fevers, somnambulisms, and other human 
maladies, seem to prove that the moon does exercise some 
mysterious influence upon man.” 

‘‘But the how and the wherefore?” asked Barbicane. 

“Well, I can only give you the answer which Arago bor- 
rowed from Plutarch, which is nineteen centuries old. ‘Per- 
haps the stories are not true !’ ” 

In the height of his triumph, Michel Ardan had to en- 
counter all the annoyances incidental to a man of celebrity. 
Managers of entertainments wanted to exhibit him. Barnum 
offered him a million dollars to make the tour of the United 
States in his show. As for his photographs, they were sold 
of all sizes, and his portrait taken in every imaginable 
posture. More than half a million copies were disposed of in 
an incredibly short space of time. 

But it was not only the men who paid him homage, but 
the women also. He might have married well a hundred times 
over, if he had been willing to settle in life. The old maids, 
in particular, of forty years and upward, and dry in propor- 
tion, devoured his photographs day and night. They would 
have married him by hundreds, even if he had imposed upon 
them the condition of accompanying him into space. He had, 
however, no intention of transplanting a race of Franco- 
Americans upon the surface of the moon. 

He therefore declined all offers. 

As soon as he could withdraw from these somewhat em- 
barrassing demonstrations, he went, accompanied by his 
friends, to pay a visit to the Columbiad. He was highly 
gratified by his inspection, and made the descent to the bot- 
tom of the tube of this gigantic machine which was presently 
bo launch him to the regions of the moon. 

It is necessary here to mention a proposal of J. T. Mas- 
ton’s. When the secretary of the Gun Club found that Bar- 
bicane and Nicholl accepted the proposal of Michel Ardan, 
he determined to join them, and make one of a snug party 
of four. So one day he determined to be admitted as one 
of the travelers. Barbicane, pained at having to refuse him, 


648 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

gave him clearly to understand that the projectile could not 
possibly contain so many passengers. Maston, in despair, 
went in search of Michel Ardan, who counseled him to re- 
sign himself to the situation, adding one or two arguments 
ad hominem. 

‘‘You see, old fellow,” he said, “you must not take what I 
say in bad part; but really, between ourselves, you are in 
too incomplete a condition to appear in the moon!” 

“Incomplete?” shrieked the valiant invalid. 

“Yes, my dear fellow! imagine our meeting some of the 
inhabitants up there! Would you like to give them such a 
melancholy notion of what goes on down here? to teach them 
what war is, to inform them that we employ our time chiefly 
in devouring each other, in smashing arms and legs, and 
that too on a globe which is capable of supporting a hundred 
billions of inhabitants, and which actually does contain 
nearly two hundred millions? Why, my worthy friend, we 
should have to turn you out of doors !” 

“But still, if you arrive there in pieces, you will be as 
incomplete as I am.” 

“Unquestionably,” replied Michel Ardan; “but we shall 
not.” 

In fact, a preparatory experiment, tried on the 18th of 
October, had yielded the best results and caused the most 
well-grounded hopes of success. Barbicane, desirous of ob- 
taining some notion of the effect of the shock at the moment 
of the projectile’s departure, had procured a 38-inch mor- 
tar from the arsenal of Pensacola. He had this placed on 
the bank of Hillisborough Roads, in order that the shell 
might fall back into the sea, and the shock be thereby 
destroyed. His object was to ascertain the extent of the 
shock of departure, and not that of the return. 

A hollow projectile had been prepared for this curious 
experiment. A thick padding fastened upon a kind of elastic 
network, made of the best steel, lined the inside of the walls. 
It was a veritable nest most carefully wadded. 

“What a pity I can’t find room in there,” said J. T. 
INIaston, regretting that his height did not allow of his 
trying the adventure. 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 649 

Within this shell were shut up a large cat, and a squirrel 
belonging to J. T. Maston, and of which he was particularly 
fond. They were desirous, however, of ascertaining how this 
little animal, least of all others subject to giddiness, would 
endure this experimental voyage. 

The mortar was charged with 160 pounds of powder, and 
the shell placed in the chamber. On being fired, the projectile 
rose with great velocity, described a majestic parabola, at- 
tained a height of about a thousand feet, and with a grace- 
ful curve descended in the midst of the vessels that lay there 
at anchor. 

Without moment’s loss of time a small boat put off in 
the directioi of its fall ; some active divers plunged into 
the water and attached ropes to the handles of the shell, 
which was quickly dragged on board. Five minutes did not 
elapse between the moment of enclosing the animals and that 
of unscrewing the coverlid of their prison. 

Ardan, Barbicane, Maston, and Nicholl were present on 
board the boat, and assisted at the operation with an in- 
terest which may readily be comprehended. Hardly had the 
shell been opened when the cat leaped out, slightly bruised, 
but full of life, and exhibiting no signs whatever of having 
made an aerial expedition. No trace, however, of the squirrel 
could be discovered. The truth at last became apparent — the 
cat had eaten its fellow-traveler! 

J. T. Maston grieved much for the loss of his poor 
squirrel, and proposed to add its case to that of other 
martyrs to science. 

After this experiment all hesitation, all fear disappeared. 
Besides, Barbicane’s plans would ensure greater perfection 
for his projectile, and go far to annihilate altogether the 
effects of the shock. Nothing now remained but to go! 

Two days later Michel Ardan received a message from the 
President of the United States, an honor of which he showed 
himself especially sensible. 

After the example of his illustrious fellow-countryman, 
the Marquis de la Fayette, the government had decreed to 
him the title of “Citizen of the United States of America.” 


650 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 


CHAPTER XXIII 

THE PROJECTILE-VEHICLE 

On the completion of the Columbiad the public interest 
centered in the projectile itself, the vehicle which was 
destined to carry the three hardy adventurers into space. 

The new plans had been sent to Breadwill and Co., of 
Albany, with the request for their speedy execution. The 
projectile was consequently cast on the 2d of November, and 
immediately forwarded by the Eastern Railway to Stones 
Hill, which it reached without accident on the Oth of that 
month, where INIichel Ardan, Barbicane, and Nicholl were 
waiting impatiently for it. 

The projectile had now to be filled to the depth of three 
feet with a bed of water, intended to support a water-tight 
wooden disc, which worked easily within the walls of the 
projectile. It was upon this kind of raft that the travelers 
were to take their place. This body of water was divided by 
horizontal partitions, which the shock of the departure 
would have to break in succession. Then each sheet of the 
water, from the lowest to the highest, running off into escape 
tubes toward the top of the projectile, constituted a kind of 
spring ; and the wooden disc, supplied with extremely power- 
ful plugs, could not strike the lowest plate except after 
breaking successively the different partitions. Undoubtedly 
the travelers would still have to encounter a violent recoil 
after the complete escapement of the water; but the first 
shock would be almost entirely destroyed by this powerful 
spring. The upper part of the walls were lined with a thick 
padding of leather, fastened upon springs of the best steel, 
behind which the escape tubes were completely concealed; 
thus all imaginable precautions had been taken for averting 
the first shock; and if they did get crushed, they must, as 
Michel Ardan said, be made of very bad materials. 

The entrance into this metallic tower was by a narrow 
aperture contrived in the wall of the cone. This was her- 
metically closed by a plate of aluminium, fastened internally 
by powerful screw-pressure. The travelers could therefore 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 651 

quit their prison at pleasure, as soon as they should reach 
the moon. 

Light and view were given by means of four thick len- 
ticular glass scuttles, two pierced in the circular wall itself, 
the third in the bottom, the fourth in the top. These scuttles 
then were protected against the shock of departure by plates 
let into solid grooves, which could be easily opened outward 
by unscrewing them from the inside. Reservoirs firmly fixed 
containing water and the necessary provisions ; and fire and 
light were procurable by means of gas, contained in a special 
reservoir under a pressure of several atmospheres. They had 
only to turn a tap, and for six hours the gas would light and 
warm this comfortable vehicle. 

There now remained only the question of air; for allow- 
ing for the consumption of air by Barbicane, his two com- 
panions, and two dogs which he purposed taking with him, 
it was necessary to renew the air of the projectile. Now air 
consists principally of twenty-one parts of oxygen and 
seventy-nine of nitrogen. The lungs absorb the oxygen, 
which is indispensable for the support of life, and reject 
the nitrogen. The air expired loses nearly five per cent, of 
the former and contains nearly an equal volume of car- 
bonic acid, produced by the combustion of the elements 
of the blood. In an air-tight enclosure, then, after a certain 
time, all the oxygen of the air will be replaced by the car- 
bonic acid — a gas fatal to life. There were two things to 
be done then — first, to replace the absorbed oxygen; sec- 
ondly, to destroy the expired carbonic acid ; both easy 
enough to do, by means of chlorate of potassium and caustic 
potash. The former is a salt which appears under the form 
of white crystals ; when raised to a temperature of 400 de- 
grees it is transformed into chlorure of potassium, and the 
oxygen which it contains is entirely liberated. Now twenty- 
eight pounds of chlorate of potassium produce seven pounds 
of oxygen, or 2,400 litres — the quantity necessary for the 
travelers during twenty-four hours. 

Caustic potash has a great affinity for carbonic acid ; and 
it is sufficient to shake it in order for it to seize upon the 


65^ FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

acid and form bicarbonate of potassium. By these two means 
they would be enabled to restore to the vitiated air its life- 
supporting properties. 

It is necessary, however, to add that the experiments had 
hitherto been made in anima vili. Whatever its scientific 
accuracy was, they were at present ignorant how it would 
answer with human beings. The honor of putting it to the 
proof was energetically claimed by J. T. Maston. 

‘‘Since I am not to go,” said the brave artillerist, “I may 
at least live for a week in the projectile.” 

It would have been hard to refuse him ; so they consented 
to his wish. A sufficient quantity of chlorate of potassium 
and of caustic potash was placed at his disposal, together 
with provisions for eight days. And having shaken hands 
with his friends, on the 12th of November, at six o’clock a.m., 
after strictly informing them not to open his prison before 
the 20th, at six o’clock p.m., he slid down the projectile, the 
plate of which was at once hermetically sealed. What did he 
do with himself during that week? They could get no infor- 
mation. The thickness of the walls of the projectile pre- 
vented any sound reaching from the inside to the outside. 
On the 20th of November, at six p.m. exactly, the plate was 
opened. The friends of J. T. Maston had been all along in 
a state of much anxiety ; but they were promptly reassured 
on hearing a jolly voice shouting a boisterous hurrah. 

Presently afterward the secretary of the Gun Club ap- 
peared at the top of the cone in a triumphant attitude. He 
had grown fat! 


CHAPTER XXIV 

THE TELESCOPE OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS 

O N THE 20th of October in the preceding year, after the 
close of the subscription, the president of the Gun Club 
had credited the Observatory of Cambridge with the neces- 
sary sums for the construction of a gigantic optical instru- 
ment. This instrument was designed for the purpose of 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 653 

rendering visible on the surface of the moon any object 
exceeding nine-feet in diameter. 

At the period when the Gun Club essayed their great 
experiment, such instruments had reached a high degree of 
perfection, and produced some magnificent results. Two 
telescopes in particular, at this time, were possessed of re- 
markable power and of gigantic dimensions. The first, con- 
structed by Herschel, was thirty-six feet in length, and 
had an object-glass of four feet six inches; it possessed a 
magnifying power of 6,000. The second was raised in Ire- 
land, in Parsonstowm Park, and belongs to Lord Rosse. The 
length of this tube is forty-eight feet, and the diameter of 
its object-glass six feet; it magnifies 6,400 times, and re- 
quired an immense erection of brick work and masonry for 
the purpose of working it, its weight being twelve and a 
half tons. 

Still, despite these colossal dimensions, the actual en- 
largements scarcely exceeded 6,000 times in round numbers ; 
consequently, the moon was brought within no nearer an ap- 
parent distance than thirty-nine miles; and objects of less 
than sixty feet in diameter, unless they were of very con- 
siderable length, were still imperceptible. 

In the present case, dealing with a projectile nine feet 
in diameter and fifteen feet long, it became necessary to 
bring the moon within an apparent distance of five miles 
at most; and, for that purpose, to establish a magnifying 
power of 48,000 times. 

Such was the question proposed to the Observatory of 
Cambridge. There was no lack of funds; the difficulty was 
purely one of construction. 

After considerable discussion as to the best form and 
principle of the proposed instrument the work was finally 
commenced. According to the calculations of the Observa- 
tory of Cambridge, the tube of the new reflector would re- 
quire to be 280 feet in length, and the object-glass sixteen 
feet in diameter. Colossal as these dimensions may appear, 
they were diminutive in comparison with the 10,000 foot 
telescope proposed by the astronomer Hooke only a few 
years ago! 


654 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

Regarding the choice of locality, that matter was 
promptly determined. The object was to select some lofty 
mountain, and there are not many of these in the United 
States. In fact there are but two chains of moderate eleva- 
tion, between which runs the magnificent Mississippi, the 
‘‘king of rivers,” as these Republican Yankees delight to 
call it. 

Eastwards rise the Appalachians, the very highest point 
of which, in New Hampshire, does not exceed the very mod- 
erate altitude of 5,600 feet. 

On the west, however, rise the Rocky Mountains, that im- 
mense range which, commencing at the Straits of Magellan, 
follows the western coast of Southern America under the 
name of the Andes or the Cordilleras, until it crosses the 
Isthmus of Panama, and runs up the whole of North Amer- 
ica to the very borders of the Polar Sea. The highest eleva- 
tion of this range still does not exceed 10,700 feet. With this 
elevation, nevertheless, the Gun Club were compelled to be 
content, inasmuch as they had determined that both tele- 
scope and Columbiad should be erected within the limits of 
the Union. All the necessary apparatus was consequently 
sent on to the summit of Long^s Peak, in the territory of 
Missouri. 

Neither pen nor language can describe the difficulties 
of all kinds which the American engineers had to surmount, 
or the prodigies of daring and skill which they accomplished. 
They had to raise enormous stones, massive pieces of wrought 
iron, heavy corner-clamps and huge portions of cylinder, 
with an object-glass weighing nearly 30,000 pounds, above 
the line of perpetual snow for more than 10,000 feet in 
height, after crossing desert prairies, impenetrable forests, 
fearful rapids, far from all centers of population, and in the 
midst of savage regions, in which every detail of life becomes 
an almost insoluble problem. And yet, notwithstanding these 
innumerable obstacles, American genius triumphed. In less 
than a year after the commencement of the works, toward 
the close of September, the gigantic reflector rose into the 
air to a height of 280 feet. It was raised by means of an 
enormous iron crane; an ingenious mechanism allowed it to 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 655 

be easily worked toward all the points of the heavens, and to 
follow the stars from the one horizon to the other during 
their journey through the heavens. 

It had cost $400,000. The first time it was directed toward 
the moon the observers evinced both curiosity and anxiety. 
What were they about to discover in the field of this tele- 
scope which magnified objects 48,000 times.? Would they 
perceive peoples, herds of lunar animals, towns, lakes, seas.? 
Noi there was nothing which science had not already dis- 
covered ! and on all the points of its disc the volcanic nature 
of the moon became determinable with the utmost precision. 

But the telescope of the Rocky Mountains, before doing 
its duty to the Gun Club, rendered immense services to as- 
tronomy. Thanks to its penetrative power, the depths of the 
heavens were sounded to the utmost extent; the apparent 
diameter of a great number of stars was accurately meas- 
ured; and Mr. Clark, of the Cambridge staff, resolved the 
Crab nebula in Taurus, which the reflector of Lord Rosse 
had never been able to decompose. 


CHAPTER XXV 

FINAL DETAILS 

It was the 22d of November; the departure was to take 
place in ten days. One operation alone remained to be ac- 
complished to bring all to a happy termination; an opera- 
tion delicate and perilous, requiring infinite precautions, 
and against the success of which Captain Nicholl had laid 
his third bet. It was, in fact, nothing less than the loading 
of the Columbiad, and the introduction into it of 400,000 
pounds of gun-cotton. Nicholl had thought, not perhaps 
without reason, that the handling of such formidable quan- 
tities of pyroxyle would, in all probability, involve a grave 
catastrophe; and at any rate, that this immense mass of 
eminently inflammable matter would inevitably ignite when 
submitted to the pressure of the projectile. 

There were indeed dangers accruing as before from the 


656 PROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

carelessness of the Americans, but Barbicane had set his 
heart on success, and took all possible precautions. In the 
first place, he was very careful as to the transportation of 
the gun-cotton to Stones Hill. He had it conveyed in small 
quantities, carefully packed in sealed cases. These were 
brought by rail from Tampa Town to the camp, and from 
thence were taken to the Columbiad by barefooted workmen, 
who deposited them in their places by means of cranes 
placed at the orifice of the cannon. No steam-engine was per- 
mitted to work, and every fire was extinguished within two 
miles of the works. 

Even in November they feared to work by day, lest the 
sun’s rays acting on the gun-cotton might lead to unhappy 
results. This led to their working at night, by light pro- 
duced in a vacuum by means of Riihmkorff’s apparatus, 
which threw an artificial brightness into the depths of the 
Columbiad. There the cartridges w^ere arranged with the 
utmost regularity, connected by a metallic thread, destined 
to communicate to them all simultaneously the electric spark, 
by which means this mass of gun-cotton was eventually to 
be ignited. 

By the 28th of November eight hundred cartridges had 
been placed in the bottom of the Columbiad. So far the 
operation had been successful! But what confusion, what 
anxieties, what struggles were undergone by President Bar- 
bicane! In vain had he refused admission to Stones Hill; 
every day the inquisitive neighbors scaled the palisades, some 
even carrying their imprudence to the point of smoking 
while surrounded by bales of gun-cotton. Barbicane was in 
a perpetual state of alarm. J. T. Maston seconded him to 
the best of his ability, by giving vigorous chase to the in- 
truders, and carefully picking up the still lighted cigar 
ends which the Yankees threw about. A somewhat difficult 
task ! seeing that more than 300,000 persons were gathered 
round the enclosure. Michel Ardan had volunteered to super- 
intend the transport of the cartridges to the mouth of the 
Columbiad ; but the president, having surprised him with an 
enormous cigar in his mouth, while he was hunting out the 
rash spectators to whom he himself offered so dangerous an 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 657 

example, saw that he could not trust this fearless smoker, 
and was therefore obliged to mount a special guard over him. 

At last. Providence being propitious, this wonderful load- 
ing came to a happy termination. Captain Nicholl’s third 
bet being thus lost. It remained now to introduce the pro- 
jectile into the Columbiad, and to place it on its soft bed of 
gun-cotton. 

But before doing this, all those things necessary for the 
journey had to be carefully arranged in the projectile 
vehicle. These necessaries were numerous; and had Ardan 
been allowed to follow his own wishes, there would have been 
no space remaining for the travelers. It is impossible to 
conceive of half the things this charming Frenchman wished 
to convey to the moon. A veritable stock of useless trifles! 
But Barbicane interfered and refused admission to anything 
not absolutely needed. Several thermometers, barometers, 
and telescopes were packed in the instrument case. 

The travelers being desirous of examining the moon care- 
fully during their voyage, in order to facilitate their studies, 
they took with them Boeer and Moeller’s excellent Map pa 
Seleno graphic a, a masterpiece of patience and observation, 
which they hoped would enable them to identify those 
physical features in the moon, with which they were ac- 
quainted. This map reproduced with scrupulous fidelity the 
smallest details of the lunar surface which faces the earth; 
the mountains, valleys, craters, peaks, and ridges were all 
represented, with their exact dimensions, relative positions, 
and names ; from the mountains Doerfel and Leibnitz on the 
eastern side of the disc, to the Mare frig oris of the North 
Pole. 

They took also three rifles and three fowling-pieces, and 
a large quantity of balls, shot, and powder. 

“We cannot tell whom we shall have to deal with,” said 
Michel Ardan. “Men or beasts may possibly object to our 
visit. It is only wise to take all precautions.” 

These defensive weapons were accompanied by pickaxes, 
crowbars, saws, and other useful implements, not to mention 
clothing adapted to every temperature, from that of polar 
regions to that of the torrid zone. 


658 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

Ardan wished to convey a number of animals of different 
sorts, not indeed a pair of every known species, as he could 
not see the necessity of acclimatizing serpents, tigers, alli- 
gators, or any other noxious beasts in the moon. “Neverthe- 
less,” he said to Barbicane, “some valuable and useful beasts, 
bullocks, cows, horses, and donkeys, would bear the journey 
very well, and would also be very useful to us.” 

“I dare say, my dear Ardan,” replied the president, “but 
our projectile-vehicle is no Noah’s ark, from which it dif- 
fers both in dimensions and object. Let us confine ourselves 
to possibilities.” 

After a prolonged discussion, it was agreed that the 
travelers should restrict themselves to a sporting-dog belong- 
ing to Nicholl, and to a large Newfoundland. Several pack- 
ets of seeds were also included among the necessaries. Michel 
Ardan, indeed, was anxious to add some sacks full of earth 
to sow them in ; as it was, he took a dozen shrubs carefully 
wrapped up in straw to plant in the moon. 

The important question of provisions still remained; it 
being necessary to provide against the possibility of their 
finding the moon absolutely barren. Barbicane managed so 
successfully, that he supplied them with sufficient rations for 
a year. These consisted of preserved meats and vegetables, 
reduced by strong hydraulic pressure to the smallest pos- 
sible dimensions. They were also supplied with brandy, and 
took water enough for two months, being confident, from 
astronomical observations, that there was no lack of water 
on the moon’s surface. As to provisions, doubtless the in- 
habitants of the earth would find nourishment somewhere 
in the moon. Ardan never questioned this; indeed, had he 
done so, he would never have undertaken the journey. 

“Besides,” he said one day to his friends, “we shall not 
be completely abandoned by our terrestrial friends ; they 
will take care not to forget us.” 

“No, indeed!” replied J. T. Maston. 

“What do you mean?” asked Nicholl. 

“Nothing would be simpler,” replied Ardan; “the Co'u:::- 
biad will be always there. Well! whenever the moon is in a 
favorable condition as to the zenith, if not to the perigee, 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 659 

that is to say about once a year, could you not send us a 
shell packed with provisions, which we might expect on 
some appointed day?” 

‘‘Hurrah! hurrah!” cried J. T. Maston; “what an in- 
genious fellow! what a splendid idea! Indeed, my good 
friends, we shall not forget you!” 

“I shall reckon upon you! Then, you see, we shall re- 
ceive news regularly from the earth, and we shall indeed 
be stupid if we hit upon no plan for communicating with 
our good friends here!” 

These words inspired such confidence, that Michel Ardan 
carried all the Gun Club with him in his enthusiasm. What 
he said seemed so simple and so easy, so sure of success, 
that none could be so sordidly attached to this earth as to 
hesitate to follow the three travelers on their lunar expedi- 
tion. 

All being ready at last, it remained to place the projectile 
in the Columbiad, an operation abundantly accompanied 
by dangers and difficulties. 

The enormous shell was conveyed to the summit of Stones 
Hill. There, powerful cranes raised it, and held it suspended 
over the mouth of the cylinder. 

It was a fearful moment ! What if the chains should break 
under its enormous weight? The sudden fall of such a 
body would inevitably cause the gun-cotton to explode ! 

Fortunately this did not happen; and some hours later 
the projectile-vehicle descended gently into the heart of the 
cannon and rested on its couch of pyroxyle, a veritable bed 
of explosive eider-down. Its pressure had no result, other 
than the more effectual ramming down of the charge in the 
Columbiad. 

“I have lost,” said the captain, who forwith paid Presi- 
dent Barbicane the sum of three thousand dollars. 

Barbicane did not wish to accept the money from one of 
his fellow-travelers, but gave way at last before the deter- 
mination of Nicholl, who wished before leaving the earth to 
fulfill all his engagements. 

“Now,” said Michel Ardan, “I have only one thing more 
to wish for you, my brave captain.” 


660 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

“What is that?” asked Nicholl. 

“It is that you may lose your two other bets ! Then we 
shall be sure not to be stopped on our journey!” 


CHAPTER XXVI 

FIRE ! 

T HE first of December had arrived I the fatal day I for, if 
the projectile were not discharged that very night at lOh. 
46m. 40s. P.M., more than eighteen years must roll by before 
the moon would again present herself under the same condi- 
tions of zenith and perigee. 

The weather was magnificent. Despite the approach of 
winter, the sun shone brightly, and bathed in its radiant 
light that earth which three of its denizens were about to 
abandon for a new world. 

How many persons lost their rest on the night which pre- 
ceded this long-expected day! All hearts beat with dis- 
quietude, save only the heart of Michel Ardan. That imper- 
turbable personage came and went with his habitual 
business-like air, while nothing whatever denoted that any 
unusual matter preoccupied his mind. 

After dawn, an innumerable multitude covered the prairie 
which extends, as far as the eye can reach, round Stones 
Hill. Every quarter of an hour the railway brought fresh 
accessions of sightseers; and, according to the statement of 
the Tampa Town Observer, not less than five milHons of 
spectators thronged the soil of Florida. 

For a whole month previously, the mass of these persons 
had bivouacked round the enclosure, and laid the founda- 
tions for a town which was afterward called “Ardan’s 
Town.” The whole plain was covered with huts, cottages, 
and tents. Every nation under the sun was represented 
there; and every language might be heard spoken at the 
same time. It was a perfect Babel re-enacted. All the various 
classes of American society were mingled together in terms 
of absolute equality. Bankers, farniers, sailors, cotton-plant- 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 661 

ers, brokers, merchants, watermen, magistrates, elbowed each 
other in the most free-and-easy way. Louisiana Creoles frat- 
ernized with farmers from Indiana; Kentucky and Tennes- 
see gentlemen and haughty Virginians conversed with trap- 
pers and the half-savages of the lakes and butchers from 
Cincinnati. Broad-brimmed white hats and Panamas, blue- 
cotton trousers, light-colored stockings, cambric frills, were 
all here displayed; while upon shirt-fronts, wristbands, and 
neckties, upon every finger, even upon the very ears, they 
wore an assortment of rings, shirt-pins, brooches, and 
trinkets, of which the value only equaled the execrable taste. 
IVomen, children, and servants, in equally expensive dress, 
surrounded their husbands, fathers, or masters, who re- 
sembled the patriarchs of tribes in the midst of their im- 
mense households. 

At meal-times all fell to work upon the dishes peculiar to 
the Southern States, and consumed with an appetite that 
threatened speedy exhaustion of the victualing powers of 
Florida, fricasseed frogs, stuffed monkey, fish chowder, 
underdone ’possum, and raccoon steaks. And as for the 
liquors which accompanied this indigestible repast ! The 
shouts, the vociferations that resounded through the bars 
and taverns decorated with glasses, tankards, and bottles 
of marvelous shape, mortars for pounding sugar, and 
bundles of straws! “Mint-julep I” roars one of the barmen; 
^‘Claret sangaree!” shouts another; “Cocktail!” “Brandy- 
smash!” “Real mint- julep in the new style!” All these cries 
intermingled produced a bewildering and deafening hubbub. 

But on this day, 1st of December, such sounds were rare. 
No one thought of eating or drinking, and at four p-m. there 
were vast numbers of spectators who had not even taken 
their customary lunch! And, a still more significant fact, 
even the national passion for play seemed quelled for the 
time under the general excitement of the hour. 

Up till nightfall, a dull, noiseless agitation, such as pre- 
cedes great catastrophes, ran through the anxious multi- 
tude. An indescribable uneasiness pervaded all minds, an 
indefinable sensation which oppressed the heart. Every one 
wished it was over. 


662 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

However, about seven o’clock, the heavy silence was dis- 
sipated. The moon rose above the horizon. Millions of hur- 
rahs hailed her appearance. She was punctual to the rendez- 
vous, and shouts of welcome greeted her on all sides, as her 
pale beams shone gracefully in the clear heavens. At this 
moment the three intrepid travelers appeared. This was the 
signal for renewed cries of still greater intensity. Instantly 
the vast assemblage, as with one accord, struck up the na- 
tional hymn of the United States, and ‘‘Yankee Doodle,” 
sung by five million of hearty throats, rose like a roaring 
tempest to the farthest limits of the atmosphere. Then a 
profound silence reigned throughout the crowd. 

The Frenchman and the two Americans had by this time 
entered the enclosure reserved in the center of the multitude. 
They were accompanied by the members of the Gun Club, 
and by deputations sent from all the European Observa- 
tories. Barbicane, cool and collected, was giving his final 
directions. Nicholl, with compressed lips, his arms crossed 
behind his back, walked with a firm and measured step. 
Michel Ardan, always easy, dressed in thorough traveler’s 
costume, leathern gaiters on his legs, pouch by his side, in 
loose velvet suit, cigar in mouth, was full of inexhaustible 
gayety, laughing, joking, playing pranks with J. T. Maston. 
In one word, he was the thorough “Frenchman” (and 
worse, a “Parisian”) to the last moment. 

Ten o’clock struck! The moment had arrived for taking 
their places in the projectile! The necessary operations for 
the descent, and the subsequent removal of tbe cranes and 
scaffolding that inclined over the mouth of the Columbiad, 
required a certain period of time. 

Barbicane had regulated his chronometer to the tenth 
part of a second by that of Murchison the engineer, who was 
charged with the duty of firing the gun by means of an elec- 
tric spark. Thus the travelers enclosed within the projectile 
were enabled to follow with their eyes the impassive needle 
which marked the precise moment of their departure. 

The moment had arrived for saying “good-by!” The 
scene was a touching one. Despite his feverish gayety, even 
Michel Ardan was touched. J. T. Maston had found in his 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 663 

own dry eyes one ancient tear, which he had doubtless re- 
served for the occasion. He dropped it on the forehead of his 
dear president. 

“Can I not go.?” he said, “there is still time!” 

“Impossible, old fellow!” replied Barbicane. A few 
moments later, the three fellow-travelers had ensconced them- 
selves in the projectile, and screwed down the plate which 
covered the entrance-aperture. The mouth of the Columbiad, 
now completely disencumbered, was open entirely to the sky. 

The moon advanced upward in a heaven of the purest 
clearness, outshining in her passage the twinkling light 
of the stars. She passed over the constellation of the Twins, 
and was now nearing the halfway point between the horizon 
and the zenith. A t^'rrible silence weighed upon the entire 
scene! Not a breath of wind upon the earth! not a sound 
of breathing from the countless chests of the spectators ! 
Their hearts seemed afraid to beat ! All eyes were fixed upon 
the yav/ning mouth of the Columbiad. 

Murchison followed with his eye the hand of his chronom- 
eter. It wanted scarce forty seconds to the moment of de- 
parture, but each second seemed to last an age! At the 
twentieth there was a general shudder, as it occurred to the 
minds of that vast assemblage that the bold travelers shut 
up within the projectile were also counting those terrible 
seconds. Some few cries here and there escaped the crowd. 

“Thirty-five ! — thirty-six ! — thirty-seven ! — thirty-eight ! 
— thirty-nine ! — forty ! Fire ! ! !” 

Instantly Murchison pressed with his finger the key of 
the electric battery, restored the current of the fluid, and 
discharged the spark into the breech of the Columbiad. 

An appalling, unearthly report followed instantly, such 
as can be compared to nothing whatever known, not even 
to the roar of thunder, or the blast of volcanic explosions! 
No words can convey the slightest idea of the terrific sound! 
An immense spout of fire shot up from the bowels of the 
earth as from a crater. The earth heaved up, and with great 
difficulty some few spectators obtained a momentary glimpse 
of the projectile victoriously cleaving the air in the midst of 
the fiery vapors ! 


664 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 


CHAPTER XXVII 

FOUL WEATHER 

At the moment when that pyramid of fire rose to a pro- 
digious height into the air, the glare of the flame lit up the 
whole of Florida; and for a moment day superseded night 
over a considerable extent of the country. This immense 
canopy of fire was perceived at a distance of one hundred 
miles out at sea, and more than one ship’s captain entered 
in his log the appearance of this gigantic meteor. 

The discharge of the Columbiad was accompanied by a 
perfect earthquake. Florida was shaken to its very depths. 
The gases of the powder, expanded by heat, forced back the 
atmospheric strata with tremendous violence, and this arti- 
ficial hurricane rushed like a water-spout through the air. 

Not a single spectator remained on his feet ! Men, women, 
children, all lay prostrate like ears of corn under a tempest. 
There ensued a terrible tumult ; a large number of persons 
were seriously injured. J. T. Maston, who, despite all 
dictates of prudence, had kept in advance of the mass, was 
pitched back 120 feet, shooting like a projectile over the 
heads of his fellow-citizens. Three hundred thousand persons 
remained deaf for a time, and as though struck stupefied. 

As soon as the first effects were over, the injured, the deaf, 
and lastly, the crowd in general, woke up with frenzied 
cries. “Hurrah for Ardan ! Hurrah for Barbicane ! Hurrah 
for Nicholl !” rose to the skies. Thousands of persons, noses 
in air, armed with telescopes and race-glasses, were question- 
ing space, forgetting all contusions and emotions in the one 
idea of watching for the projectile. They looked in vain! 
It was no longer to be seen, and they were obliged to wait for 
telegrams from Long’s Peak. The director of the Cambridge 
Observatory was at his post on the Rocky Mountains ; and 
to him, as a skillful and persevering astronomer, all ob- 
servations had been confided. 

But an unforseen phenomenon came in to subject the pub- 
lic impatience to a severe trial. 

The weather, hitherto so fine, suddenly changed; the 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 665 

sky became heavy with clouds. It could not have been other- 
wise after the terrible derangement of the atmospheric 
strata, and the dispersion of the enormous quantity of vapor 
arising from the combustion of 200,000 pounds of pyroxyle ! 

On the morrow the horizon was covered with clouds — a 
thick and impenetrable curtain between earth and sky, which 
unhappily extended as far as the Rocky Mountains. It was 
a fatality! But since man had chosen so to disturb the 
atmosphere, he was bound to accept the consequences of his 
experiment. 

Supposing, now, that the experiment had suceeded, the 
travelers having started on the 1st of December, at lOh. 
46m. 40s. P.M., were due on the 4th at Oh. p.m. at their des- 
tination. So that up to that time it would have been very 
difficult after all to have observed, under such conditions, a 
body so small as the shell. Therefore they waited with what 
patience they might. 

From the 4th to the 6th of December inclusive, the weather 
remaining much the same in America, the great European 
instruments of Herschel, Rosse, and Foucault, were con- 
stantly directed toward the moon, for the weather was then 
magnificent; but the comparative weakness of their glasses 
prevented any trustworthy observations being made. 

On the 7th the sky seemed to lighten. They were in hopes 
now, but their hope was of but short duration, and at night 
again thick clouds hid the starry vault from all eyes. 

Matters were now becoming serious, when on the 9th the 
sun reappeared for an instant, as if for the purpose of teas- 
ing the Americans. It was received with hisses ;‘and wounded, 
no doubt, by such a reception, showed itself very sparing of 
its rays. 

On the 10th, no change! J. T. Maston went nearly mad, 
and great fears were entertained regarding the brain of this 
worthy individual, which had hitherto been so well preserved 
within his gutta-percha cranium. 

But on the 11th one of those inexplicable tempests peculiar 
to those intertropical regions was let loose in the atmosphere. 
A terrific east wind swept away the groups of clouds which 
had been so long gathering, and at night the semi-disc of 


666 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 

the orb of night rode majestically amid the soft constellations 
of the sky. 


CHAPTER XXVIII 

A NEW STAR 

T HAT very night, the startling news so impatiently 
awaited, burst like a thunderbolt over the United States of 
the Union, and thence, darting across the ocean, ran 
through all the telegraphic wires of the globe. The pro- 
jectile had been detected, thanks to the gigantic reflector 
of Long’s Peak! Here is the note received by the director 
of the Observatory of Cambridge. It contains the scientific 
conclusion regarding this great experiment of the Gun Club. 

Long’s Peak, December 12. 

To the Officers of the Observatory of Cambridge. 

The projectile discharged by the Columbiad at Stones 
Hill has been detected by Messrs. Belfast and J. T. Mas- 
ton, 12th of December, at 8.47 p.m., the moon having 
entered her last quarter. This projectile has not arrived 
at its destination. It has passed by the side; but suf- 
ficiently near to be retained by the lunar attraction. 

The rectilinear movement has thus become changed 
into a circular motion of extreme velocity, and it is now 
pursuing an elliptical orbit round the moon, of which it 
has become a true satellite. 

The elements of this new star we have as yet been 
unable to determine ; we do not yet know the velocity of 
its passage. The distance which separates it from the 
surface of the moon may be estimated at about 2,833 
miles. 

However, two hypotheses come here into our consid- 
eration. 

1. Either the attraction of the moon will end by draw- 
ing them into itself, and the travelers will attain their 
destination; or. 


FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 667 

2. The projectile, following an immutable law, will 
continue to gravitate round the moon till the end of time. 

At some future time, our observations will be able to 
determine this point, but till then the experiment of the 
Gun Club can have no other result than to have provided 
our solar system with a new star. J. Belfast. 

To how many questions did this unexpected denouement 
give rise.f^ What mysterious results was the future reserving 
for the investigation of science.^ At all events, the names of 
Nicholl, Barbicane, and Michel Ardan were certain to be 
immortalized in the annals of astronomy! 

When the dispatch from Long’s Peak had once become 
known, there was but one universal feeling of surprise and 
alarm. Was it possible to go to the aid of these bold trav- 
elers.? No! for they had placed themselves beyond the pale 
of humanity, by crossing the limits imposed by the Creator 
on his earthly creatures. They had air enough for two 
months; they had victuals enough for twelve; — hut after 
that? There was only one man who would not admit that 
the situation was desperate — he alone had confidence; and 
that was their devoted friend J. T. Maston. 

Besides, he never let them get out of sight. His home was 
henceforth the post at Long’s Peak ; his horizon, the mirror 
of that immense reflector. As soon as the moon rose above 
the horizon, he immediately caught her in the field of the 
telescope ; he never let her go for an instant out of his sight, 
and followed her assiduously in her course through the 
stellar spaces. He watched with untiring patience the pass- 
age of the projectile across her silvery disc, and really the 
worthy man remained in perpetual communication with his 
three friends, whom he did not despair of seeing again some 
day. 

“Those three men,” said he, “have carried into space all 
the resources of art, science, and industry. With that, one 
can do anything; and you will see that, some day, they will 
come out all right.” 


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ROUND THE MOON 


PRELIMINARY CHAPTER 

RECAPITULATING THE FIRST PART OF THIS WORK, AND 
SERVING AS A PREFACE TO THE SECOND 

D URiNG the year 186—, the whole world was greatly ex- 
cited by a scientific experiment unprecedented in the annals 
of science. The members of the Gun Club, a circle of artil- 
lerymen formed at Baltimore after the American war, con- 
ceived the idea of putting themselves in communication 
with the moon ! — yes, with the moon — by sending to her a 
projectile. Their president, Barbicane, the promoter of the 
enterprise, having consulted the astronomers of the Cam- 
bridge Observatory upon the subject, took all necessary 
means to ensure the success of this extraordinary enterprise, 
which had been declared practicable by the majority of 
competent judges. After setting on foot a public subscrip- 
tion, which realized nearly £1,200,000, they began the 
gigantic work. 

According to the advice forwarded from the members of 
the Observatory, the gun destined to launch the projectile 
had to be fixed in a country situated between the 0 and 
28th degrees of north or south latitude, in order to aim at 
the moon when at the zenith ; and its initiatory velocity was 
fixed at twelve thousand yards to the second. Launched on 
the 1st of December, at lOhrs. lifim. 40s. p.m., it ought to 
reach the moon four days after its departure, that is on the 
5th of December, at midnight precisely, at the moment of 
her attaining her perigee, that is her nearest distance from 
the earth, which is exactly 86,410 leagues (French), or 
238,833 miles mean distance (English). 

The principal members of the Gun Club, President 
Barbicane, Major Elphinstone, the secretary Joseph T. 
Maston, and other learned men, held several meetings, at 
which the shape and composition of the projectile were 
discussed, also the position and nature of the gun, and the 

671 


672 ROUND THE MOON 

quality and quantity of the powder to be used. It was de- 
cided: First, that the projectile should be a shell made of 
aluminium with a diameter of 108 inches and a thickness 
of twelve inches to its walls ; and should weigh 19,250 pounds. 
Second, that the gun should be a Columbiad cast in iron, 
900 feet long, and run perpendicularly into the earth. Third, 
that the charge should contain 400,000 pounds of gun- 
cotton, which, giving out six billions of litres of gas in rear 
of the projectile, would easily carry it toward the orb of 
night. 

These questions determined President Barbicane, assisted 
by Murchison the engineer, to choose a spot situated in 
Florida, in 27° 7' North latitude, and 77° 3' West (Green- 
wich) longitude. It was on this spot, after stupendous labor, 
that the Columbiad was cast with full success. Things stood 
thus, when an incident took place which increased the inter- 
est attached to this great enterprise a hundredfold. 

A Frenchman, an enthusiastic Parisian, as witty as he 
was bold, asked to be enclosed in the projectile, in order 
that he might reach the moon, and reconnoiter this ter- 
restrial satellite. The name of this intrepid adventurer was 
Michel Ardan. He landed in America, was received with 
enthusiasm, held meetings, saw^ himself carried in triumph, 
reconciled President Barbicane to his mortal enemy. Cap- 
tain Nicholl, and, as a token of reconciliation, persuaded 
them both to start with him in the projectile. The proposi- 
tion being accepted, the shape of the projectile was slightly 
altered. It was made of a cylindro-conical form. This 
species of aerial car w^as lined with strong springs and par- 
titions to deaden the shock of departure. It was provided 
with food for a year, water for some months, and gas for 
some days. A self-acting apparatus supplied the three trav- 
elers with air to breathe. At the same time, on one of the 
highest points of the Rocky Mountains, the Gun Club had a 
gigantic telescope erected, in order that they might be able 
to follow the course of the projectile through space. All was 
then ready. 

On the 30th of November, at the hour fixed upon,' from 
the midst of an extraordinary crowd of spectators, the de- 


ROUND THE MOON 


673 


parture took place, and for the first time, three human be- 
ings quitted the terrestrial globe, and launched into inter- 
planetary space with almost a certainty of reaching their 
destination. These bold travelers, Michel Ardan, President 
Barbicane, and Captain Nicholl, ought to make the passage 
in ninety-seven hours, thirteen minutes, and twenty seconds. 
Consequently, their arrival on the lunar disc could not take 
place until the 5th of December at twelve at night, at the 
exact moment when the moon should be full, and not on the 
4th, as some badly informed journals had announced. 

But an unforeseen circumstance, viz., the detonation pro- 
duced by the Columbiad, had the immediate effect of 
troubling the terrestrial atmosphere, by accumulating a 
large quantity of vapor, a phenomenon which excited uni- 
versal indignation, for the moon was hidden from the eyes 
of the watchers for several nights. 

The worthy Joseph T. Maston, the staunchest friend of 
the three travelers, started for the Rocky Mountains, accom- 
panied by the Hon. J. Belfast, director of the Cambridge 
Observatory, and reached the station of Long’s Peak, where 
the telescope was erected which brought the moon within 
an apparent distance of two leagues. The honorable secre- 
tary of the Gun Club wished himself to observe the vehicle 
of his daring friends. 

The accumulation of the clouds in the atmosphere pre- 
vented all observations on the 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, and 
10th of December. Indeed it was thought that all obser- 
vations would have to be put off to the 3d of January in the 
following year; for the moon entering its last quarter on 
the 11th, would then only present an ever-decreasing por- 
tion of her disc, insufficient to allow of their following the 
course of the projectile. 

At length, to the general satisfaction, a heavy storm 
cleared the atmosphere on the night of the 11th and 12th 
of December, and the moon, with half-illuminated disc, was 
plainly to be seen upon the black sky. 

That very night a telegram was sent from the station 
of Long’s Peak by Joseph T. Maston and Belfast to the 
gentlemen of the Cambridge Observatory, anouncing that. 


674 


ROUND THE MOON 


on the 11th of December at 8h. 47m. p.m., the projectile 
launched by the Columbiad of Stones Hill had been detected 
by Messrs. Belfast arid Maston — that it had deviated from 
its course from some unknown cause, and had not reached 
its destination; but that it had passed near enough to be 
retained by the lunar attraction; that its rectilinear move- 
ment had been changed to a circular one, and that following 
an elliptical orbit round the star of night it had become its 
satellite. The telegram added that the elements of this new 
star had not yet been calculated ; and indeed three observa- 
tions made upon a star in three different positions are neces- 
sary to determine these elements. Then it showed that the 
distance separating the projectile from the lunar surface 
‘‘might” be reckoned at about 2,833 miles. 

It ended with this double hypothesis: either the attrac- 
tion of the moon would draw it to herself, and the travelers 
thus attain their end; or that the projectile, held in one 
immutable orbit, would gravitate around the lunar disc to 
all eternity. 

With such alternatives, what would be the fate of the 
travelers Certainly they had food for some time. But sup- 
posing they did succeed in their rash enterprise, how would 
they return.? Could they ever return.? Should they hear 
from them? These questions, debated by the most learned 
pens of the day, strongly engrossed the public attention. 

It is advisable here to make a remark which ought to be 
well considered by hasty observers. When a purely specula- 
tive discovery is announced to the public, it cannot be done 
with too much prudence. No one is obliged to discover 
either a planet, a comet, or a satellite; and whoever makes 
a mistake in such a case exposes himself justly to the de- 
rision of the mass. Far better is it to wait; and that is what 
the impatient Joseph T. Maston should have done before 
sending this telegram forth to the world, which, according 
to his idea, told the whole result of the enterprise. Indeed 
this telegram contained two sorts of errors, as was proved 
eventually. First, errors of observation, concerning the dis- 
tance of the projectile from the surface of the moon, for on 


ROUND THE MOON 


675 


the 11th of December it was impossible to see it; and what 
Joseph T. ^laston had seen, or thought he saw, could not 
have been the projectile of the Columbiad. Second, errors 
of theory on the fate in store for the said projectile; for in 
making it a satellite of the moon, it was putting it in direct 
contradiction to all mechanical laws. 

One single hypothesis of the observers of Long’s Peak 
could ever be realized, that which foresaw the case of the 
travelers (if still alive) uniting their efforts with the lunar 
attraction to attain the surface of the disc. 

Now these men, as clever as they were daring, had sur- 
vived the terrible shock consequent on their departure, and 
it is their journey in the projectile car which is here related 
m its most dramatic as well as in its most singular details. 
Phis recital will destroy many illusions and surmises; but 
it will give a true idea of the singular changes in store for 
such an enterprise'; it will bring out the scientific instincts 
of Barbicane, the industrious resources of Nicholl, and the 
audacious humor of Michel Ardan. Besides this, it will prove 
that their worthy friend, Joseph T. Maston, was wasting 
his time, while leaning over the gigantic telescope he watched 
the course of the moon through the starry space. 


CHAPTER I 

FROM TWENTY MINUTES PAST TEN TO FORTY-SEVEN MINUTES 
PAST TEN P. M. 

As TEN o’clock struck, Michel Ardan, Barbicane, and 
Nicholl, took leave of the numerous friends they were leav- 
ing on the earth. The two dogs, destined to propagate the 
canine race on the lunar continents, were already shut up 
in the projectile. 

The three travelers aproached the orifice of the enormous 
cast-iron tube, and a crane let them down to the conical top 
of the projectile. There, an opening made for the purpose 
gave them access to the aluminium car. The tackle belong- 


ROUND THE MOON 


676 

ing“ to the crane being hauled from outside, the mouth of 
the Columbiad was instantly disencumbered of its last 
supports. 

Nicholl, once introduced with his companions inside the 
projectile, began to close the opening by means of a strong 
plate, held in position by powerful screws. Other plates, 
closely fitted, covered the lenticular glasses, and the travel- 
ers, hermetically enclosed in their metal prison, were plunged 
in profound darkness. 

“And now, my dear companions,” said Michel Ardan, 
“let us make ourselves at home; I am a domesticated man 
and strong in housekeeping. We are bound to make the best 
of our new lodgings, and make ourselves comfortable. And 
first let us try and see a little. Gas was not invented for 
moles.” 

So saying, the thoughtless fellow lit a match by striking 
it on the sole of his boot; and approached the burner fixed 
to the receptacle, in which the carbonized hydrogen, stored 
at high pressure, sufficed for the lighting and warming of 
the projectile for a hundred and forty-four hours, or six 
days and six nights. The gas caught fire, and thus lighted 
the projectile looked like a comfortable room with thickly 
padded walls, furnished with a circular divan, and a roof 
rounded in the shape of a dome. 

The objects it contained, arms, instruments, and utensils 
securely fastened against the rounds of wadding, could 
bear the shock of departure with impunity. Humanly speak- 
ing, every possible precaution had been taken to bring this 
rash experiment to a successful termination. 

Michel Ardan examined everything, and declared him- 
self satisfied with his installation. 

“It is a prison,” said he, “but a traveling prison; and, 
with the right of putting my nose to the window, I could 
well stand a lease of a hundred years. You smile, Barbi- 
cane. Have you any arriere-pensee? Do you say to your- 
self, ‘This prison may be our tomb.^’ Tomb, perhaps; still 
I would not change it for Mahomet’s, which floats in space, 
but never advances an inch !” 


ROUND THE MOON 677 

While Michel Ardan was speaking, Barbicane and Nicholl 
were making their last preparations. 

NicholPs chronometer marked twenty minutes past ten 
p.M. when the three travelers were finally enclosed in their 
projectile. This chronometer was set within the tenth of a 
second by that of Murchison the engineer. Barbicane con- 
sulted it. 

“My friends,” said he, “it is twenty minutes past ten. 
At forty-seven minutes past ten Murchison will launch the 
electric spark on the wire which communicates with the 
charge of the Columbiad. At that precise moment we shall 
leave our spheroid. Thus we have still twenty-seven minutes 
to remain on the earth.” 

“Twenty-six minutes thirteen seconds,” replied the 
methodical Nicholl. 

“Well!” exclaimed Michel Ardan, in a good-humored 
tone, “much may be done in twenty-six minutes. The grav- 
est questions of morals and politics may be discussed, and 
even solved. Twenty-six minutes well employed are worth 
more than twenty-six years in which nothing is done. Some 
seconds of a Pascal or a Newton are more precious than 
the whole existence of a crowd of raw simpletons 

“And you conclude, then, you everlasting talker.^” asked 
Barbicane. 

“I conclude that we have twenty-six minutes left,” replied 
Ardan. 

“Twenty-four only,” said Nicholl. 

“Well, twenty-four, if you like, my noble captain,” said 
Ardan ; “twenty-four minutes in wdiich to investigate ” 

“Michel,” said Barbicane, “during the passage we shall 
have plenty of time to investigate the most difficult ques- 
tions. For the present we must occupy ourselves with our 
departure.” 

“Are we not ready .^” 

“Doubtless; but there are still some precautions to be 
taken, to deaden as much as possible the first shock.” 

“Have we not the water-cushions placed between the par- 
tition-breaks, whose elasticity will suflSciently protect us.^” 


678 


ROUND THE MOON 


‘‘I hope so, Michel,” replied Barbicane gently, “but I 
am not sure.” 

“Ah, the joker!” exclaimed Michel Ardan. “He hopes! — 
He is not sure ! — and he waits for the moment when we are 
encased to make this deplorable admission! I beg to be al- 
lowed to get out!” 

“And how?” asked Barbicane. 

“Humph !” said Michel Ardan, “it is not easy ; we are in 
the train, and the guard’s whistle will sound before twenty- 
four minutes are over.” 

“Twenty,” said Nicholl. 

For some moments the three travelers looked at each 
other. Then they began to examine the objects imprisoned 
with them. 

“Everything is in its place,” said Barbicane. “We have 
now to decide how we can best place ourselves to resist the 
shock. Position cannot be an indifferent matter; and we 
must, as much as possible, prevent the rush of blood to the 
head.” 

“Just so,” said Nicholl. 

“Then,” replied Michel Ardan, ready to suit the action 
to the word, “let us put our heads down and our feet in 
the air, like the clowns in the grand circus.” 

“No,” said Barbicane, “let us stretch ourselves on our 
sides; we shall resist the shock better that way. Remember 
that, when the projectile starts, it matters little whether 
we are in it or before it ; it amounts to much the same thing.” 

“If it is only ‘much the same thing,’ I may cheer up,” 
said Michel Ardan. 

“Do you approve of my idea, Nicholl?” asked Barbicane. 

“Entirely,” replied the captain. “We’ve still thirteen 
minutes and a half.” 

“That Nicholl is not a man,” exclaimed Michel; “he is a 
chronometer with seconds, an escape, and eight holes.” 

But his companions were not listening ; they were taking 
up their last positions with the most perfect coolness. They 
were like two methodical travelers in a car, seeking to place 
themselves as comfortably as possible. 


ROUND THE MOON 


679 


We might well ask ourselves of what materials are the 
hearts of these Americans made, to whom the aproach of 
the most frightful danger added no pulsation. 

Three thick and solidly-made couches had been placed 
in the projectile. Nicholl and Barbicane placed them in the 
center of the disc forming the floor. There the three trav- 
elers were to stretch themselves some moments before their 
departure. 

During this time, Ardan, not being able to keep still, 
turned in his narrow prison like a wild beast in a cage, 
chatting with his friends, speaking to the dogs Diana and 
Satellite, to whom, as may be seen, he had given significant 
names. 

‘‘Ah, Diana! Ah, Satellite!” he exclaimed, teasing them; 
“so you are going to show the moon-dogs the good habits 
of the dogs of the earth! That will do honor to the canine 
race! If ever we do come down again, I will bring a cross 
type of ‘moon-dogs,’ which will make a stir !” 

“If there are dogs in the moon,” said Barbicane. 

“There are,” said Michel Ardan, “just as there are 
horses, cows, donkeys, and chickens. I bet that we shall find 
chickens.” 

“A hundred dollars we shall find none!” said Nicholl. 

“Done, my captain!” replied Ardan, clasping Nicholl’s 
hand. “But, by and bye, you have already lost three bets 
with our president, as the necessary funds for the enterprise 
have been found, as the operation of casting has been suc- 
cessful, and lastly, as the Columbiad has been loaded without 
accident, six thousand dollars.” 

“Yes,” replied Nicholl. “Thirty-seven minutes six sec- 
onds past ten.” 

“It is understood, captain. Well, before another quarter 
of an hour you will have to count nine thousand dollars to 
the president ; four thousand because the Columbiad will not 
burst, and five thousand because the projectile will rise 
more than six miles in the air.” 

“I have the dollars,” replied Nicholl, slapping the pocket 
of his coat. “I only ask to be allowed to pay.” 

“Come, Nicholl, I see that you are a man of method, 


ROUND THE MOON 


680 

which I could never be ; but indeed you have made a series 
of bets of very little advantage to yourself, allow me to tell 
you.” 

“And why.P” asked Nicholl. 

“Because, if you gain the first, the Columbiad will have 
burst, and the projectile with it; and Bar bicane will no 
longer be there to reimburse your dollars.” 

“My stake is deposited at the bank in Baltimore,” re- 
plied Barbicane simply; “and if Nicholl is not there, it 
will go to his heirs.” 

“Ah, you practical men!” exclaimed Michel Ardan; “I 
admire you the more for not being able to understand you.” 

“Forty-two minutes past ten I” said Nicholl. 

“Only five minutes more!” answered Barbicane. 

“Yes, five little minutes!” replied Michel Ardan; “and 
we are enclosed in a projectile, at the bottom of a gun 900 
feet long! And under this projectile are rammed 400,000 
pounds of gun-cotton, which is equal to 1,600,000 pounds 
of ordinary powder! And friend Murchison, with his 
chronometer in hand, his eye fixed on the needle, his finger 
on the electric apparatus, is counting the seconds prepara- 
tory to launching us into interplanetary space.” 

“Enough, Michel, enough!” said Barbicane, in a serious 
voice ; “let us prepare. A few instants alone separate us from 
an eventful moment. One clasp of the hand, my friends.” 

“Yes,” exclaimed Michel Ardan, more moved than he 
wished to appear; and the three bold companions were 
united in a last embrace. 

“God preserve us!” said the religious Barbicane. 

Michel Ardan and Nicholl stretched themselves on the 
couches placed in the center of the disc. 

“Forty-seven minutes past ten!” murmured the captain. 

“Twenty seconds more!” Barbicane quickly put out the 
gas and lay down by his companions^ and the profound 
silence was only broken by the ticking of the chronometer 
marking the seconds. 

Suddenly a dreadful shock was felt, and the projectile, 
under the force of six billions of litres of gas, developed 
by the combustion of pyroxyle, mounted into space. 


ROUND THE MOON 


681 


CHAPTER II 


THE FIRST HALF-HOUR 

W HAT had happened? What effect had this frightful 
shock produced? Had the ingenuity of the constructors of 
the projectile obtained any happy result? Had the shock 
been deadened, thanks to the springs, the four plugs, the 
water-cushions, and the partition-breaks? Had they been 
able to subdue the frightful pressure of the initiatory speed 
of more than 11,000 yards, which was enough to traverse 
' Paris or New York in a second? This was evidently the ques- 
tion suggested to the thousand spectators of this moving 
scene. They forgot the aim of the journey, and thought only 
of the travelers. And if one among them — Joseph T. Maston 
for example — could have cast one glimpse into the projec- 
tile, what would he have seen? 

Nothing then. The darkness was profound. But its 
cylindro-conical partitions had resisted wonderfully. Not a 
rent or a dent anywhere! The wonderful projectile was not 
even heated under the intense deflagration of the powder, 
nor liquefled, as they seemed to fear, in a shower of 
aluminium. 

The interior showed but little disorder ; indeed, only a 
few objects had been violently thrown toward the roof ; but 
the most important seemed not to have suffered from the 
shock at all; their flxtures were intact. 

On the movable disc, sunk down to the bottom by the 
smashing of the partition-breaks and the escape of the 
water, three bodies lay apparently lifeless. Barbicane, 
Nicholl, and Michel Ardan — did they still breathe? or was 
the projectile nothing now but a metal coffin, bearing three 
corpses into space? 

Some minutes after the departure of the projectile, one 
of the bodies moved, shook its arms, lifted its head, and 
finally succeeded in getting on its knees. It was Michel 
Ardan. He felt himself all over, gave a sonorous “Hem!” 
and then said: 

“Michel Ardan is whole. How about the others?” 


682 


ROUND THE MOON 


The courageous Frenchman tried to rise, but could not 
stand. His head swam, from the rush of blood; he was 
blind; he was like a drunken man. 

‘‘Bur-r!” said he. “It produces the same effect as two 
bottles of Corton, though perhaps less agreeable to swal- 
low.” Then, passing his hand several times across his fore- 
head and rubbing his temples, he called in a firm voice: 

“Nicholl ! Barbicane !” 

He w^aited anxiously. No answer; not even a sigh to show 
that the hearts of his companions were still beating. He 
called again. The same silence. 

“The devil!” he exclaimed. “They look as if they had 
fallen from a fifth story on their heads. Bah!” he added, 
with that imperturbable confidence which nothing could 
check, “if a Frenchman can get on his knees, two Ameri- 
cans ought to be able to get on their feet. But first let us 
light up.” 

Ardan felt the tide of life return by degrees. His blood 
became calm, and returned to its accustomed circulation. 
Another effort restored his equilibrium. He succeeded in 
rising, drew a match from his pocket, and approaching the 
burner lighted it. The receiver had not suffered at all. The 
gas had not escaped. Besides, the Smell would have betrayed 
it ; and in that case Michel Ardan could not have carried a 
lighted match with impunity through the space filled with 
hydrogen. The gas mixing with the air would have pro- 
duced a detonating mixture, and the explosion would have 
finished what the shock had perhaps begun. When the 
burner was lit, Ardan leaned over the bodies of his com- 
panions: they were lying one on the other, an inert mass, 
Nicholl above, Barbicane underneath. 

Ardan lifted the captain, propped him up against the 
divan, and began to rub vigorously. This means, used with 
judgment, restored Nicholl, who opened his eyes, and in- 
stantly recovering his presence of mind, seized Ardan’s 
hand and looked around him. 

“And Barbicane?” said he. 

“Each in turn,” replied Michel Ardan. “I began with 
vou. Nicholl. because you were on the top. Now let us look 


ROUND THE MOON 


683 


to Barbicane.” Saying which, Ardan and Nicholl raised the 
president of the Gun Club and laid him on the divan. He 
seemed to have suffered more than either of his companions ; 
he was bleeding, but Nicholl was reassured by finding that 
the hemorrhage came from a slight wound on the shoulder, 
a mere graze, which he bound up carefully. 

Still, Barbicane was a long time coming to himself, which 
frightened his friends, who did not spare friction. 

“He breathes though,” said Nicholl, putting his ear to 
the chest of the wounded man. 

“Yes,” replied Ardan, “he breathes like a man who has 
some notion of that daily operation. Rub, .Nicholl ; let us 
rub harder.” And the two improvised practitioners worked 
so hard and so well that Barbicane recovered his senses. He 
opened his eyes, sat up, took his two friends by the hands, 
and his first words were — 

“Nicholl, are we, moving.?” 

Nicholl and Ardan looked at each other ; they had 
not yet troubled themselves about the projectile; their first 
thought had been for the traveler, not for the car. 

“Well, are we really moving?” repeated Michel Ardan. 

“Or quietly resting on the soil of Florida?” asked Nicholl. 

“Or at the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico?” added Michel 
Ardan. 

“What an idea!” exclaimed the president. 

And this double hypothesis suggested by his companions 
had the effect of recalling him to his senses. In any case 
they could not decide on the position of the projectile. Its 
apparent immovability, and the want of communication 
with the outside, prevented them from solving the question. 
Perhaps the projectile was unwinding its course through 
space. Perhaps after a short rise it had fallen upon the 
earth, or even in the Gulf of Mexico — a fall which the nar- 
rowness of the penninsula of Florida would render not im- 
possible. 

The case was serious, the problem interesting, and one 
that must be solved as soon as possible. Thus, highly ex- 
cited, Barbicane’s moral energy triumphed over physical 
weakness, and he rose to his feet. He listened. Outside was 


ROUND THE MOON 


684 

perfect silence ; but the thick padding was enough to inter- 
cept all sounds coming from the earth. But one circumstance 
struck Barbicane, viz., that the temperature inside the pro- 
jectile was singularly high. The president drew a thermom- 
eter from its case and consulted it. The instrument showed 
81° Fahr. 

“Yes,” he exclaimed, “yes, we are moving! This stifling 
heat, penetrating through the partitions of the projectile, 
is produced by its friction on the atmospheric strata. It will 
soon diminish, because we are already floating in space, and 
after having been nearly stifled, we shall have to suffer in- 
tense cold. 

“What!” said Michel Ardan. “According to your show- 
ing, Barbicane, we are already beyond the limits of the ter- 
restrial atmosphere.^” 

“Without a doubt, Michel. Listen to me. It is fifty-five 
minutes past ten ; we have been gone about eight minutes ; 
and if our initiatory speed has not been checked by the fric- 
tion, six seconds would be enough for us to pass through 
the forty miles of atmosphere which surrounds the globe.” 

“Just so,” replied Nicholl; “but in what proportion do 
you estimate the diminution of speed by friction.?” 

“In the proportion of one-third, Nicholl. This diminution 
is considerable, but according to my calculations it is noth- 
ing less. If, then, we had an initiatory speed of 12,000 
yards, on leaving the atmosphere this speed would be re- 
duced to 9,165 yards. In any case we have already passed 
through this interval, and ” 

“And then,” said Michel Ardan, “friend Nicholl has lost 
his two bets: four thousand dollars because the Columbiad 
did not burst; five thousand dollars because the projectile 
has risen more than six miles. Now, Nicholl, pay up.” 

“Let us prove it first,” said the captain, “and we mil pay 
afterward. It is quite possible that Barbicane’s reasoning 
is correct, and that I have lost my nine thousand dollars. 
But a new hypothesis presents itself to my mind, and it 
annuls the wager.” 

“What is that.?” asked Barbicane quickly. 


ROUND THE MOON 


685 


‘‘The hypothesis that, for some reason or other, fire was 
never set to the powder, and we have not started at all.” 

“My goodness, captain,” exclaimed Michel Ardan, “that 
hypothesis is worthy of my brain ! It cannot be a serious one. 
For have we not been half annihilated by the shock.? Did 
I not recall you to life.? Is not the president’s shoulder still 
bleeding from the blow it has received.?” 

“Granted,” replied Nicholl; “but one question.” 

“Well, captain.?” 

“Did you hear the detonation, which certainly ought to 
be loud.?” 

“No,” replied Ardan, much surprised; “certainly I did 
not hear the detonation.” 

“And you, Barbicane.?” 

“Nor I, either.” 

“Very well,” said Nicholl. 

“Well now,” murmured the president “why did we not 
hear the detonation.?” 

The three friends looked at each other with a discon- 
certed air. It was quite an inexplicable phenomenon. The 
projectile had started, and consequently there must have 
been a detonation. 

“Let us first find out where we are,” said Barbicane, “and 
let down the panel.” 

This very simple operation was soon accomplished. 

The nuts which held the bolts to the outer plates of the 
right-hand scuttle gave way under the pressure of the Eng- 
lish wrench. These bolts were pushed outside, and buffers 
covered wdth India-rubber stopped up the holes which let 
them through. Immediately the outer plate fell back upon 
its hinges like a porthole, and the lenticular glass which 
closed the scuttle appeared. A similar one was let into the 
thick partition on the opposite side of the projectile, an- 
other in the top of the dome, and finally, a fourth in the 
middle of the base. They could, therefore, make observa- 
tions in four different directions : the firmament by the side 
and most direct windows, the earth or the moon by the upper 
and under openings in the projectile. 


ROUND THE MOON 


686 

Barbicane and his two companions immediately rushed 
to the uncovered window. But it was lit by no ray of light. 
Profound darkness surrounded them, which, however, did 
not prevent the president from exclaiming: 

“No, my friends, we have not fallen back upon the earth; 
no, nor are we submerged in the Gulf of Mexico. Yes! we 
are mounting into space. See those stars shining in the 
night, and that impenetrable darkness heaped up between 
the earth and us I” 

“Hurrah! hurrah!” exclaimed Michel Ardan and Nicholl 
in one voice. 

Indeed, this thick darkhess proved that the projectile 
had left the earth, for the soil, brilliantly lit by the moon- 
beams, would have been visible to the travelers, if they had 
been lying on its surface. This darkness also showed that 
the projectile had passed the atmospheric strata, for the 
diffused light spread in the air would have been reflected 
on the metal walls, which reflection was wanting. This light 
would have lit the window, and the window was dark. Doubt 
was no longer possible; the travelers had left the earth. 

“I have lost,” said Nicholl. 

“I congratulate you,” replied Ardan. 

“Here are the nine thousand dollars,” said the captain, 
drawing a roll of paper dollars from his pocket. 

“Will you have a receipt for it.?” asked Barbicane, tak- 
ing the sum. 

“If you do not mind,” answered Nicholl; “it is more 
business-like.” 

And coolly and seriously, as if he had been at his strong- 
box, the president drew forth his notebook, tore out a blank 
leaf, wrote a proper receipt in pencil, dated and signed it 
with the usual flourish,* and gave it to the captain, who 
carefully p^:aced it in his pocketbook. Michel Ardan, taking 
off his hat, bowed to his two companions without speaking. 
So much formality under such circumstances left him 
speechless. He had never befo^’e seen anything so 
“American.” 

* This is purely French habit. 


ROUND THE MOON 687 

This affair settled, Barbicane and Nicholl had returned 
to the window, and were watching the constellations. The 
stars looked like bright points on the black sky. But from 
that side they could not see the orb of night, which, travel- 
ing from east to west, would rise by degrees toward the 
zenith. Its absence drew the following remark from Ardan: 

“And the moon; will she perchance fail at our ren- 
dezvous 

“Do not alarm yourself,” said Barbicane; “our future 
globe is at its post, but we cannot see her from this side; 
let us open the other.” 

As Barbicane was about leaving the window to open the 
opposite scuttle, his attention was attracted by the approach 
of a brilliant object. It was an enormous disc, whose colossal 
dimension could not be estimated. Its face, which was turned 
to the earth, was very bright. One might have thought it a 
small moon reflecting the light of the large one. She ad- 
vanced with great speed, and seemed to describe an orbit 
round the earth, which would intersect the passage of the 
projectile. This body revolved upon its axis, and exhibited 
the phenomena of all celestial bodies abandoned in space. 

“Ah!” exclaimed Michel Ardan, “what is that.^^ another 
projectile.^” 

Barbicane did not answer. The appearance of this enor- 
mous body surprised and troubled him. A collision was pos- 
sible, and might be attended with deplorable results; either 
the projectile would deviate from its path, or a shock, 
breaking its impetus, might precipitate it to the earth; or, 
lastly, it might be irresistibly drawn away by the powerful 
asteroid. The president caught at a glance the consequences 
of these three hypotheses, either of which would, one way 
or the other, bring their experiment to an unsuccessful and 
fatal termination. His companions stood silently looking 
into space. The object grew rapidly as it approached them, 
and by an optical illusion the projectile seemed to be throw- 
ing itself before it. 

“By Jove!” exclaimed Michel Ardan, “we shall run into 
one another!” 


ROUND THE MOON 


688 

Instinctively the travelers drew back. Their dread was 
great, but it did not last many seconds. The asteroid passed 
several hundred yards from the projectile and disappeared, 
not so much from the rapidity of its course, as that its face 
being opposite the moon, it was suddenly merged into the 
perfect darkness of space. 

‘‘A happy journey to you,” exclaimed Michel Ardan, with 
a sigh of relief. ‘‘Surely infinity of space is large enough 
for a poor little projectile to walk through without fear. 
Now, what is this portentous globe which nearly struck us.?” 

“I know,” replied Barbicane. 

“Oh, indeed! you know everything.” 

“It is,” said Barbicane, “a simple meteorite, but an 
enormous one, which the attraction of the earth has retained 
as a satellite.” 

“Is it possible!” exclaimed Michel Ardan; “the earth 
then has two moons like Neptune.?” 

“Yes, my friend, two moons, though it passes generally 
for having only one; but this second moon is so small, and 
its speed so great, that the inhabitants of the earth cannot 
see it. It was by noticing disturbances that a French 
astronomer, M. Petit, was able to determine the existence 
of this second satellite and calculate its elements. According 
to his observations, this meteorite will accomplish its revolu- 
tion round the earth in three hours and twenty minutes^ 
which implies a wonderful rate of speed.” 

“Do all astronomers admit the existence of this satel- 
lite.?” asked Nicholl. 

“No,” replied Barbicane; “but if, like us, they had 
met it, they could no longer doubt it. Indeed, I think that 
this meteorite, which, had it struck the projectile, would 
have much embarrassed us, will give us the means of decid- 
ing what our position in space is.” 

“How.?” said Ardan. 

“Because its distance is known, and when we met it, we 
were exactly four thousand six hundred and fifty miles from 
the surface of the terrestrial globe. 

“More than two thousand French leagues,” exclaimed 


ROUND THE MOON 689 

Michel Ardan. “That beats the express trains of the pitiful 
globe called the earth.” 

“I should think so,” replied Nicholl, consulting his 
chronometer ; “it is eleven o’clock, and it is only thirteen 
minutes since we left the American Continent.” 

“Only thirteen minutes said Barbicane. 

“Yes,” said Nicholl; “and if our initiatory speed of twelve 
thousand yards has been kept up, we shall have made about 
twenty thousand miles in the hour.” 

“That is all very well, my friends,” .said the president, 
“but the insoluble question still remains. Why did we not 
hear the detonation of the Columbiad.^” 

For want of an answer the conversation dropped, and 
Barbicane began thoughtfully to let down the shutter of 
the second side. He succeeded; and through the uncovered 
glass the moon filled the projectile with a brilliant light, 
Nicholl, as an economical man, put out the gas, now useless, 
and whose brilliancy prevented any observation of the inter- 
planetary space. 

The lunar disc shone with wonderful purity. Her rays, 
no longer filtered through the vapory atmosphere of the 
terrestrial globe, shone through the glass, filling the air 
in the interior of the projectile with silvery reflections. The 
black curtain of the firmament in reality heightened the 
moon’s brilliancy, which in this void of ether unfavorable to 
diffusion did not eclipse the neighboring stars. The heavens, 
thus seen, presented quite a new aspect, and one which the 
human eye could never dream of. One may conceive the 
interest with which these bold men watched the orb of night, 
the great aim of their journey. 

In its motion the earth’s satellite was insensibly nearing 
the zenith, the mathematical point which it ought to attain 
ninety-six hours later. Her mountains, her plains, every pro- 
jection was as clearly discernible to their eyes as if they 
were observing it from some spot upon the earth; but its 
light was developed through space with wonderful intensity. 
The disc shone like a platinum mirror. Of the earth flying 
from under their feet, the travelers had lost all recollection. 


ROUND THE MOON 


690 

It was Captain Nicholl who first recalled their attention 
to the vanishing globe. 

“Yes,” said Michel Ardan, “do not let us be ungrate- 
ful to it. Since we are leaving our country, let our last looks 
be directed to it. I wish to see the earth once more before it 
is quite hidden from my eyes.” 

To satisfy his companions, Barbicane began to uncover 
the window at the bottom of the projectile, which would 
allow them to observe the earth direct. The disc, which the 
force of the projection had beaten down to the base, was 
removed, not without difficulty. Its fragments, placed care- 
fully against the wall, might serve again upon occasion. 
Then a circular gap appeared, nineteen inches in diameter, 
hollowed out of the lower part of the projectile. A glass 
cover, six inches thick and strengthened with upper fasten- 
ings, closed it tightly. Beneath was fixed an aluminum plate, 
held in place by bolts. The screws being undone, and the 
bolts let go, the plate fell down, and visible communication 
was established between the interior and the exterior. 

Michel Ardan knelt by the glass. It was cloudy, seemingly 
opaque. 

“Well!” he exclaimed, “and the e^rth.?” 

“The earth .^” said Barbicane. “There it is.” 

“What! that little thread; that silver crescent.?” 

“Doubtless, Michel. In four days, when the moon will be 
full, at the very time we shall reach it, the earth will be 
new, and will only appear to us as a slender crescent which 
will soon disappear, and for some days will be enveloped in 
utter darkness.” 

“That the earth.?” repeated Michel Ardan, looking with 
all his eyes at the thin slip of his native planet. 

The explanation given by President Barbicane was cor- 
rect. The earth, with respect to the projectile, was entering 
its last phase. It was in its octant, and showed a crescent 
finely traced on the dark background of the sky. Its light, 
rendered bluish by the thick strata of the atmosphere was 
less intense than that of the crescent moon, but it was of 
considerable dimensions, and looked like an enormous arch 
stretched across the firmament. Some parts brilliantly 


ROUND THE MOON 


691 


lighted, especially on its concave part, showed the presence 
of high mountains, often disappearing behind thick spots, 
which are never seen on the lunar disc. They were rings of 
clouds placed concentrically round the terrestrial globe. 

While the travelers were trying to pierce the profound 
darkness, a brilliant cluster of shooting stars burst upon 
their eyes. Hundreds of meteorites, ignited by the friction 
of the atmosphere, irradiated the shadow of the luminous 
train, and lined the cloudy parts of the disc with their fire. 
At this period the earth was in its perihelium, and the month 
of December is so propitious to these shooting stars, that 
astronomers have counted as many as twenty-four thousand 
in an hour. But Michel Ardan, disdaining scientific reason- 
ings, preferred thinking that the earth was thus saluting the 
departure of her three children with her most brilliant 
fireworks. 

Indeed this was all they saw of the globe lost in the solar 
world, rising and setting to the great planets like a simple 
morning or evening star ! This globe, where they had left all 
their affections, was nothing more than a fugitive crescent ! 

Long did the three friends look without speaking, though 
united in heart, while the projectile sped onward with an 
ever-decreasing speed. Then an irresistible drowsiness crept 
over their brain. Was it weariness both of body and mind.^ 
No doubt; for after the over-excitement of those last hours 
passed upon earth, reaction was inevitable. 

‘‘Well,” said Nicholl, “since we must sleep, let us sleep.” 

And stretching themselves on their couches, they were 
all three soon in a profound slumber. 

But they had not forgotten themselves more than a quar- 
ter of an hour, when Barbicane sat up suddenly, and rousing 
his companions with a loud voice, exclaimed 

“I have found it!” 

“What have you found.?” asked Michel Ardan, jumping 
from his bed. 

“The reason why we did not hear the detonation of the 
Columbiad.” 

“And it is .?” said Nicholl. 

“Because our projectile traveled faster than the sound I” 


692 


ROUND THE MOON 


CHAPTER III 

THEIR PLACE OF SHELTER 

This curious but certainly correct explanation once given, 
the three friends returned to their slumbers. Could they have 
found a calmer or more peaceful spot to sleep in? On the 
earth, houses, towns, cottages, and country feel every shock 
given to the exterior of the globe. On sea, the vessels rocked 
by the waves are still in motion ; in the air, the balloon oscil- 
lates incessantly on the fluid strata of divers densities. This 
projectile alone, floating in perfect space, in the midst of 
perfect silence, offered perfect repose. 

Thus the sleep of our adventurous travelers might have 
been indefinitely prolonged, if an unexpected noise had not 
awakened them at about seven o’clock in the morning of the 
2d of December, eight hours after their departure. 

This noise was a very natural barking. 

“The dogs! it is the dogs!” exclaimed Michel Ardan, 
rising at once. 

“They are hungry,” said Nicholl. 

“By Jove!” replied Michel, “we have forgotten them.” 

“Where are they?” asked Barbicane. 

They looked and found one of the animals crouched under 
the divan. Terrified and shaken by the initiatory shock, it 
had remained in the corner till its voice returned with the 
pangs of hunger. It was the amiable Diana, still very con- 
fused, who crept out of her retreat, though not without much 
persuasion, Michel Ardan encouraging her with most 
gracious words. 

“Come, Diana,” said he: “come, my girl! thou whose 
destiny will be marked in the cynegetic annals; thou whom 
the pagans would have given as companion to the god 
Anubis, and Christians as friend to St. Roch ; thou who art 
rushing into interplanetary space, and wilt perhaps be the 
Eve of all Selenite dogs ! come, Diana, come here.” 

Diana, flattered or not, advanced by degrees, uttering 
plaintive cries. 

“Good,” said Barbicane; “I see Eve, but where is Adam?” 


ROUND THE MOON 


693 

‘‘Adam?” replied Michel; “Adam cannot be far off; he 
is there somewhere ; we must call him. Satellite ! here, 
Satellite !” 

But Satellite did not appear. Diana would not leave off 
howling. They found, however, that she was not bruised, 
and they gave her a pie, which silenced her complaints. As 
to Satellite, he seemed quite lost. They had to hunt a long 
time before finding him in one of the upper compartments of 
the projectile, whither some unaccountable shock must have 
violently hurled him. The poor beast, much hurt, was in a 
piteous state. 

“The devil!” said Michel. 

They brought the unfortunate dog down with great care. 
Its skull had been broken against the roof, and it seemed 
unlikely that he could recover from such a shock. Mean- 
while, he was stretched comfortably on a cushion. Once there, 
he heaved a sigh. 

“We will take care of you,” said Michel; “we are re- 
sponsible for your existence. I would rather lose an arm 
than a paw of my poor Satellite.” 

Saying which, he offered some water to the wounded dog, 
who swallowed it with avidity. 

This attention paid, the travelers watched the earth and 
the moon attentively. The earth was now only discernible by 
a cloudy disc ending in a crescent, rather more contracted 
than that of the previous evening; but its expanse was still 
enormous, compared with that of the moon, which was ap- 
proaching nearer and nearer to a perfect circle. 

“By Jove!” said Michel Ardan, “I am really sorry that 
we did not start when the earth was full, that is to say, when 
our globe was in opposition to the sun.” 

“Why?” asked Nicholl. 

“Because we should have seen our continents and seas in 
a new light — the first resplendent under the solar rays, the 
latter cloudy as represented on some maps of the world. I 
should like to have seen those poles of the earth on which the 
eye of man has never yet rested. 

“I dare say,” rephed Barbicane; “but if the earth had 
been fuLL, the moon would have been new ; that is to say, in- 


ROUND THE MOON 


694 

visible, because of the raj^s of the sun. It is better for us 
to see the destination we wish to reach, than the point of 
departure.” 

“You are right, Barbicane,” replied Captain Nicholl ; 
“and, besides, when we have reached the moon, we shall have 
time during the long lunar nights to consider at our leisure 
the globe on which our likenesses swarm.” 

“Our likenesses !” exclaimed Michel Ardan ; “they are no 
more our likenesses than the Selenites are! We inhabit a new 
world, peopled by ourselves — ^the projectile! I am Barbi- 
cane’s likeness, and Barbicane is Nicholl’s. Beyond us, around 
us, human nature is at an end, and we are the only popula- 
tion of this microcosm until we become pure Selenites.” 

“In about eighty-eight hours,” replied the captain. 

“Which means to sa^^.?” asked Michel Ardan. 

“That it is half-past eight,” replied Nicholl. 

“Very well,” retorted Michel; “then it is impossible for me 
to find even the shadow of a reason why we should not go to 
breakfast.” 

Indeed the inhabitants of the new star could not live with- 
out eating, and their stomachs were suffering from the im- 
perious laws of hunger. Michel Ardan, as a Frenchman, was 
declared chief cook, an important function, which raised no 
rival. The gas gave sufficient heat for the culinary ap- 
paratus, and the provision-box furnished the elements of this 
first feast. 

The breakfast began with three bowls of excellent soup, 
thanks to the liquefaction in hot water of those precious 
cakes of Liebig, prepared from the best parts of the rumi- 
nants of the Pampas. To the soup succeeded some beefsteaks, 
compressed by an hydraulic press, as tender and succulent 
as if brought straight from the kitchen of an English eating- 
house. Michel, who was imaginative, maintained that they 
were even “red.” 

Preserved vegetables (“fresher than nature,” said the 
amiable Michel) succeeded the dish of meat; and was fol- 
lowed by some cups of tea with bread and butter, after the 
American fashion. 

The beverage was declared exquisite, and was due to the 


ROUND THE MOON 


695 


infusion of the choicest leaves, of which the emperor of 
Russia had given some chests for the benefit of the travelers. 

And lastly, to crown the repast, Ardan brought out a 
fine bottle of Nuits, which was found “by chance” in the 
provision-box. The three friends drank to the union of the 
earth and her satellite. 

And, as if he had not already done enough for the gen- 
erous wine which he had distilled on the slopes of Burgundy, 
the sun chose to be of the party. At this moment the pro- 
jectile emerged from the conical shadow cast by the ter- 
restrial globe, and the rays of the radiant orb struck the 
lower disc of the projectile direct occasioned by the angle 
which the moon’s orbit makes with that of the earth. 

“The sun!” exclaimed Michel Ardan. 

“No doubt,” replied Barbicane; “I expected it.” 

“But,” said Michel, “the conical shadow which the earth 
leaves in space extends beyond the moon.^^” 

“Far beyond it, if the atmospheric refraction is not taken 
into consideration,” said Barbicane. “But when the moon 
is enveloped in this shadow, it is because the centers of the 
three stars, the sun, the earth, and the moon, are all in one 
and the same straight line. Then the nodes coincide with the 
phases of the moon, and there is an eclipse. If we had 
started when there was an eclipse of the moon, all our 
passage would have been in the shadow, which would have 
been a pity.” 

“Why.?” 

“Because, though we are floating in space, our projectile, 
bathed in the solar rays, will receive their light and heat. 
It economizes the gas, which is in every respect a good 
economy.” 

Indeed, under these rays which no atmosphere can temper, 
either in temperature or brilliancy, the projectile grew warm 
and bright, as if it had passed suddenly from winter to sum- 
mer. The moon above, the sun beneath, were inundating it 
with their fire. 

“It is pleasant here,” said Nicholl. 

“I should think so,” said Michel Ardan. “With a little 
earth spread on our aluminium planet we should have green 


696 


ROUND THE MOON 


peas in twenty-four hours. I have but one fear, which is 
that the walls of the projectile might melt.” 

‘‘Calm yourself, my worthy friend,” replied Barbicane ; 
“the projectile withstood a very much higher temperature 
than this as it slid through the strata of the atmosphere. I 
should not be surprised if it did not look like a meteor on 
fire to the eyes of the spectators in Florida.” 

“But then Joseph T. Maston will think we are roasted!” 

“What astonishes me,” said Barbicane, “is that we have 
not been. That was a danger we had not provided for.” 

“I feared it,” said Nicholl simply. 

“And you never mentioned it, my sublime captain,” ex- 
claimed Michel Ardan, clasping his friend’s hand. 

Barbicane now began to settle himself in the projectile as 
if he was never to leave it. One must remember that this 
aerial car had a base with a superficies of fifty-four square 
feet. Its height to the roof was twelve feet. Carefully laid out 
in the inside, and little encumbered by instruments and 
traveling utensils, which each had their particular place, it 
left the three travelers a certain freedom of movement. The 
thick window inserted in the bottom could bear any amount 
of weight, and Barbicane and his companions walked upon it 
as if it were solid plank ; but the sun striking it directly with 
its rays lit the interior of the projectile from beneath, thus 
producing singular effects of light. 

They began by investigating the state of their store of 
water and provisions, neither of which had suffered, thanks 
to the care taken to deaden the shock. Their provisions were 
abundant, and plentiful enough to last the three travelers 
for more than a year. Barbicane wished to be cautious, in 
case the projectile should land on a part of the moon which 
was utterly barren. As to water and the reserve of brandy, 
which consisted of fifty gallons, there was only enough for 
two months ; but according to the last observations of 
astronomers, the moon had a low, dense, and thick atmos- 
phere, at least in the deep valleys, and there springs and 
streams could not fail. Thus, during their passage, and for 
the first year of their settlement on the lunar continent, these 
adventurous explorers would suffer neither hunger nor thirst. 


ROUND THE MOON 


697 

Now about the air in the projectile. There, too, they 
were secure. Reiset and Regnaut’s apparatus, intended for 
the production of oxygen, was supplied with chlorate of 
potassium for two months. They necessarily consumed a 
certain quantity of gas, for they were obliged to keep the 
producing substance at a temperature of above 400°. But 
there again they were all safe. The apparatus only wanted 
a little care. But it was not enough to renew the oxygen ; 
the}^ must absorb the carbonic acid produced by expiration. 
During the last twelve hours the atmosphere of the pro- 
jectile had become charged with this deleterious gas. 
Nicholl discovered the state of the air by observing Diana 
panting painfully. The carbonic acid, by a phenomenon 
similar to that produced in the famous Grotto del Cane, 
had collected at the bottom of the projectile owing to its 
weight. Poor Diana, with her head low, would suffer before 
her masters from the presence of this gas. But Captain 
Nicholl hastened to remedy this state of things, by placing 
on the floor several receivers containing caustic potash, 
which he shook about for a time, and this substance, greedy 
of carbonic acid, soon completely absorbed it, thus purify- 
ing the air. 

An inventory of instruments was then begun. The ther- 
mometers and barometers had resisted, all but one mini- 
mum thermometer, the glass of which was broken. An 
excellent aneroid was drawn from the wadded box which 
contained it and hung on the wall. Of course it was only 
affected by and marked the pressure of the air inside the 
projectile, but it also showed the quantity of moisture which 
it contained. At that moment its needle oscillated between 
25.24 and 25.08. 

It was fine weather. 

Barbicane had also brought several compasses, which he 
found intact. One must understand that under present con- 
ditions their needles were acting wildly, that is without any 
constant direction. Indeed, at the distance they were from 
the earth, the magnetic pole could have no perceptible ac- 
tion upon the apparatus; but the box placed on the lunar 
disc might perhaps exhibit some strange phenomena. In any 


698 


ROUND THE MOON 


case it would be interesting to see whether the earth’s satel- 
lite submitted like herself to its magnetic influence. 

A hypsometer to measure the height of the lunar moun- 
tains, a sextant to take the height of the sun, glasses which 
would be useful as they neared the moon, all these instru- 
ments were carefully looked over, and pronounced good in 
spite of the violent shock. 

As to the pickaxes and different tools which were Nicholl’s 
especial choice; as to the sacks of different kinds of grain 
and shrubs which Michel Ardan hoped to transplant into 
Selenite ground, they were stowed away in the upper part 
of the projectile. There was a sort of granary there, loaded 
with things which the extravagant Frenchman had heaped 
up. What they were no one knew, and the good-tempered 
fellow did not explain. Now and then he climbed up by 
cramp-irons riveted to the walls, but kept the inspection to 
himself. He arranged and rearranged, he plunged his hand 
rapidly into certain mysterious boxes, singing in one of the 
falsest of voices an old French refrain to enliven the 
situation. 

Barbicane observed with some interest that his guns and 
other arms had not been damaged. These were important, 
because, heavily loaded, they were to help to lessen the fall 
of the projectile, when drawn by the lunar attraction (after 
having passed the point of neutral attraction) on to the 
moon’s surface; a fall which ought to be six times less rapid 
than it would have been on the earth’s surface, thanks to 
the difference of bulk. The inspection ended with general 
satisfaction, when each returned to watch space through the 
side windows and the lower glass coverlid. 

There was the same view. The whole extent of the celestial 
sphere swarmed with stars and constellations of wonderful 
purity, enough to drive an astronomer out of his mind ! On 
one side the sun, like the mouth of a lighted oven, a dazzling 
disc without a halo, standing out on the dark background 
of the sky ! On the other, the moon returning its fire by re- 
flection, and apparently motionless in the midst of the starry 
world. Then, a large spot seemingly nailed to the firmament, 
bordered by a silverv cord : it was the earth ! Here and there 


ROUND THE MOON 699 

nebulous masses like large flakes of starry snow; and from 
the zenith to the nadir, an immense ring formed by an im- 
palpable dust of stars, the “Milky Way,” in the midst of 
which the sun ranks only as a star of the fourth magnitude. 
The observers could not take their eyes from this novel 
spectacle, of which no description could give an adequate 
idea. What reflections it suggested! What emotions hitherto 
unknown awoke in their souls! Barbicane wished to begin 
the relation of his journey while under its first impressions, 
and hour after hour took notes of all facts happening in the 
beginning of the enterprise. He wrote quietly, with his large 
square writing, in a business-like style. 

During this time Nicholl, the calculator, looked over the 
minutes of their passage, and worked out figures with un- 
paralleled dexterity. Michel Ardan chatted first with Barbi- 
cane, who did not answer him, and then with Nicholl, who 
did not hear him, with Diana, who understood none of his 
theories, and lastly with himself, questioning and answering, 
going and coming, busy with a thousand details ; at one time 
bent over the lower glass, at another roosting in the heights 
of the projectile, and always singing. In this microcosm he 
represented French loquacity and excitability, and we beg 
you to believe that they were well represented. The day, or 
rather (for the expression is not correct) the lapse of twelve 
hours, which forms a day upon earth, closed with a plentiful 
supper carefully prepared. No accident of any nature had 
yet happened to shake the travelers’ confidence; so, full of 
hope, already sure of success, they slept peacefully, while 
the projectile under an uniformly decreasing speed was 
crossing the sky. 


CHAPTER IV 

A LITTLE ALGEBRA 

T HE night passed without incident. The word “night,” 
however, is scarcely applicable. 

The position of the projectile with regard to the sun did 


700 


ROUND THE MOON 


I not change. Astronomically, it was daylight on the lower 
part, and night on the upper ; so when during this narrative 
these words are used, they represent the lapse of time be^ 
tween the rising and setting of the sun upon the earth. 

The travelers’ sleep was rendered more peaceful by the 
projectile’s excessive speed, for it seemed absolutely mo- 
tionless. Not a motion betrayed its onward course through 
space. The rate of progress, however rapid it might be, can- 
not produce any sensible effect on the human frame when 
it takes place in a vacuum, or when the mass of air circu- 
lates with the body which is carried with it. What inhabitant 
of the earth perceives its speed, which, however, is at the 
rate of 68,000 miles per hour.^^ Motion under such conditions 
is ‘ffelt” no more than repose ; and when a body is in repose 
it will remain so as long as no strange force displaces it; 
if moving, it will not stop unless an obstacle comes in its 
way. This indifference to motion or repose is called inertia. 

Barbicane and his companions might have believed them- 
selves perfectly stationary, being shut up in the projectile; 
indeed, the effect would have been the same if they had been 
on the outside of it^ Had it not been for the moon, which 
was increasing above them, they might have sworn that they 
were floating in complete stagnation. 

That morning, the 3d of December, the travelers were 
awakened by a joyous but unexpected noise; it was the 
crowing of a cock which sounded through the car. Michel 
Ardan, who was the first on his feet, climbed to the top of 
the projectile, and shutting a box, the lid of which was 
partly open, said in a low voice, ‘‘Will you hold your 
tongue.^ That creature will spoil my design!” 

But Nicholl and Barbicane were awake. 

“A cock!” said Nicholl. 

“Why no, my friends,” Michel answered quickly ; “it was 
I who wished to awake you by this rural sound.” So saying, 
he gave vent to a splendid cock-a-doodledoo, which would 
have done honor to the proudest of poultry-yards. 

The two Americans could not help laughing. 

“Fine talent that,” said Nicholl, looking suspiciously at 
his companion. 


ROUND THE MOON 


701 

“Yes,” said Michel; “a joke in my country. It is very 
Gallic ; they play the cock so in the best society.” 

Then turning the conversation : 

“Barbicane, do you know what I have been thinking of 
all night .^” 

“No,” answered the president. 

“Of our Cambridge friends. You have already remarked 
that I am an ignoramus in mathematical subjects; and it is 
impossible for me to find out how the savants of the observa- 
tory were able to calculate what initiatory speed the pro- 
jectile ought to have on leaving the Columbiad in order to 
attain the moon.” 

“You mean to say,” replied Barbicane, “to attain that 
neutral point where the terrestrial and lunar attractions 
are equal; for, starting from that point, situated about 
nine-tenths of the distance traveled over, the projectile 
would simply fall upon the moon, on account of its weight.” 

“So be it,” said Michel ; “but, once more ; how could they 
calculate the initiatory speed?” 

“Nothing can be easier,” replied Barbicane. 

“And you knew how to make that calculation?” asked 
Michel Ardan. 

“Perfectly. Nicholl and I would have made it, if the ob- 
servatory had not saved us the trouble.” 

“Very well, old Barbicane,” replied Michel; “they might 
have cut off my head, beginning at my feet, before they 
could have made me solve that problem.” 

“Because you do not know algebra,” answered Barbicane 
quietly. 

“Ah, there you are, you eaters of ; you think you have 
said all when you have said ‘Algebra.’ ” 

“Michel,” said Barbicane, “can you use a forge without a 
hammer, or plow without a plowshare?” 

“Hardly.” 

“Well, algebra is a tool, like the plow or the hammer, and 
a good tool to those who know how to use it.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Quite seriously.” 

“And can you use that tool in my presence?” 


702 


ROUND THE MOON 


“If it will interest you.” 

“And show me how they calculated the initiatory speed 
of our car.^” 

“Yes, my worthy friend; taking into consideration all 
the elements of the problem, the distance from the center 
of the earth to the center of the moon, of the radius of the 
earth, of its bulk, and of the bulk of the moon, I can tell 
exactly what ought to be the initiatory speed of the pro- 
jectile, and that by a simple formula.” 

“Let us see.” 

“You shall see it ; only I shall not give you the real course 
drawn by the projectile between the moon and the earth in 
considering their motion round the sun. No, I shall consider 
these two orbs as perfectly motionless, which will answer all 
our purpose.” 

“And why.^” 

“Because it will be trying to solve the problem called Hhe 
problem of the three bodies,’ for which the integral calculus 
is not yet far enough advanced.” 

“Then,” said Michel Ardan, in his sly tone, “mathematics 
have not said their last word.^” 

“Certainly not,” replied Barbicane. 

“Well, perhaps the Selenites have carried the integral 
calculus farther than you have; and, by the bye, what is 
this ‘integral calculus ” 

“It is a calculation the converse of the differential,” re- 
plied Barbicane seriously. 

“Much obliged ; it is all very clear, no doubt.” 

“And now,” continued Barbicane, “a slip of paper and 
a bit of pencil, and before a half-hour is over I will have 
found the required formula.” 

Half an hour had not elapsed before Barbicane, raising 
his head, showed Michel Ardan a page covered with alge- 
braical signs, in which the general formula for the solution 
was contained. 

“Well, and does Nicholl understand what that means?” 

“Of course, Michel,” replied the captain. “All these signs, 
which seem cabalistic to you, form the plainest, the clearest. 


ROUND THE MOON 703 

and the most logical language to those who know how to 
read it.” 

“And you pretend, Nicholl,” asked Michel, “that by 
means of these hieroglyphics, more incomprehensible than 
the Egyptian Ibis, you can find what initiatory speed it was 
necessary to give to the projectile.?” 

“Incontestably,” replied Nicholl; “and even by this same 
formula I can always tell you its speed at any point of its 
transit.” 

“On your word.?” 

“On my word.” 

“Then you are as cunning as our president.” 

“No, Michel; the difficult part is what Barbicane has 
done; that is, to get an equation which shall satisfy all 
the conditions of the problem. The remainder is only a ques- 
tion of arithmetic, requiring merely the knowledge of the 
four rules.” 

“That is something!” replied Michel Ardan, who for his 
life could not do addition right, and who defined the rule 
as a Chinese puzzle, which allowed one to obtain all sorts 
of totals. 

“The expression v zero, which you see in that equation, is 
the speed which the projectile will have on leaving the 
atmosphere.” 

“Just so,” said Nicholl; “it is from that point that we 
must calculate the velocity, since we know already that the 
velocity at departure was exactly one and a half times more 
than on leaving the atmosphere.” 

“I understand no more,” said Michel. 

“It is a very simple calculation,” said Barbicane. 

“Not as simple as I am,” retorted Michel. 

“That means, that when our projectile reached the limits 
of the terrestrial atmosphere it had already lost one-third 
of its initiatory speed.” 

“As much as that.?” 

“Yes, my friend; merely by friction against the atmos- 
pheric strata. You understand that the faster it goes the 
more resistance it meets with from the air.” 

“That I admit,” answered Michel; “and I understand it. 


ROUND THE MOON 


704 

although your x’s and zero’s, and algebraic formula, are 
rattling in my head like nails in a bag.” 

‘‘First effects of algebra,” replied Barbicane; “and now, 
to finish, we are going to prove the given number of these 
different expressions, that is, work out their value.” 

“Finish me!” replied Michel. 

Barbicane took the paper, and began again to make his 
calculations with great rapidity. Nicholl looked over and 
greedily read the work as it proceeded. 

“That’s it! that’s it!” at last he cried. 

“Is it clear asked Barbicane. 

“It is written in letters of fire,” said Nicholl. 

“Wonderful fellows!” muttered Ardan. 

“Do you understand it at last.^” asked Barbicane. 

“Do I understand it.?” cried Ardan; “my head is splitting 
with it.” 

“And now,” said Nicholl, “to find out the speed of the 
projectile when it left the atmosphere, we have only to 
calculate that.” 

The captain, as a practical man equal to all difficulties, 
began to write with frightful rapidity. Divisions and multi- 
plications grew under his fingers; the figures were like hail 
on the white page. Barbicane watched him, while Michel 
Ardan nursed a growing headache with both hands. 

“Very well.?” asked Barbicane, after some minutes’ 
silence. 

“Well!” replied Nicholl; “every calculation made, v zero, 
that is to say, the speed necessary for the projectile on 
leaving the atmosphere, to enable it to reach the equal point 
of attraction, ought to be ” 

“Yes.?” said Barbicane. 

“Twelve thousand yards.” 

“What!” exclaimed Barbicane, starting; “you say ” 

“Twelve thousand yards.” 

“The devil!” cried the president, making a gesture of 
despair. 

“What is the matter.?” asked Michel Ardan, much sur- 
prised. 


ROUND THE MOON 


705 

“What is the matter! why, if at this moment our speed 
had already diminished one-third by friction, the initiatory 
speed ought to have been ” 

“Seventeen thousand yards.” 

“And the Cambridge Observatory declared that twelve 
thousand yards was enough at starting; and our projectile,, 
which only started with that speed ” 

“Well.?” asked Nicholl. 

“Well, it will not be enough.” 

“Good.” 

“We shall not be able to reach the neutral point.” 

“The deuce!” 

“We shall not even get halfway.” 

“In the name of the projectile!” exclaimed Michel Ardan, 
jumping as if it was already on the point of striking the 
terrestrial globe. 

“And we shall fall back upon the earth!” 


CHAPTER V 

THE COLD OF SPACE 

This revelation came like a thunderbolt. Who could have 
expected such an error in calculation.? Barbicane would not 
believe it. Nicholl revised his figures: they were exact. As 
to the formula which had determined them, they could not 
suspect its truth; it was evident that an initiatory velocity 
of seventeen thousand yards in the first second was necessary 
to enable them to reach the neutral point. 

The three friends looked at each other silently. There 
was no thought of breakfast. Barbicane, with clenched teeth, 
knitted brows, and hands clasped convulsively, was watching 
through the window. Nicholl had crossed his arms, and was 
examining his calculations. Michel Ardan was muttering: 

“That is just like those scientific men: they never do any- 
thing else. I would give twenty pistoles if we could fall upon 
the Cambridge Observatory and crush it, together with the 
whole lot of dabblers in figures which it contains.” 


706 


ROUND THE MOON 


Suddenly a thought struck the captain, which he at once 
communicated to Barbicane. 

“Ah!” said he; “it is seven o’clock in the morning; we 
have already been gone thirty-two hours; more than half 
our passage is over, and we are not falling that I am 
aware of.” 

Barbicane did not answer, but, after a rapid glance at 
the captain, took a pair of compasses wherewith to meas- 
ure the angular distance of the terrestrial globe ; then from 
the lower window he took an exact observation, and noticed 
that the projectile was apparently stationary. Then rising 
and wiping his forehead, on which large drops of perspira- 
tion were standing, he put some figures on paper. Nicholl 
understood that the president was deducting from the ter- 
restrial diameter the projectile’s distance from the earth. 
He watched him anxiously. 

“No,” exclaimed Barbicane, after some moments, “no, 
we are not falling! no, we are already more than 50,000 
leagues from the earth. We have passed the point at which 
the projectile would have stopped if its speed had only been 
12,000 yards at starting. We are still going up.” 

“That is evident,” replied Nicholl; “and we must con- 
clude that our initial speed, under the power of the 400,000 
pounds of gun-cotton, must have exceeded the required 12,- 
000 yards. Now I can understand how, after thirteen min- 
utes only, we met the second satellite, which gravitates round 
the earth at more than 2,000 leagues’ distance.” 

“And this explanation is the more probable,” added 
Barbicane, “because, in throwing off the water enclosed 
between its partition-breaks, the projectile found itself 
lightened of a considerable weight.” 

“Just so,” said Nicholl. 

“Ah, my brave Nicholl, we are saved!” 

“Very well then,” said Michel Ardan quietly; “as we 
are safe, let us have breakfast.” 

Nicholl was not mistaken. The initial speed had been, 
very fortunately, much above that estimated by the Cam- 
bridge Observatory; but the Cambridge Observatory had 
nevertheless made a mistake. 


ROUND THE MOON 


707 


The travelers, recovered from this false alarm, break- 
fasted merrily. If they ate a great deal, they talked more. 
Their confidence was greater after than before “the inci- 
dent of the algebra.” 

“Why should we not succeed?” said Michel Ardan; “why 
should we not arrive safely? We are launched; we have no 
obstacle before us, no stones in our way ; the road is open, 
more so than that of a ship battling with the sea; more 
open than that of a balloon battling with the wind; and if 
a ship can reach its destination, a balloon go where it pleases, 
why cannot our projectile attain its end and aim?” 

“It xoill attain it,” said Barbicane. 

“If only to do honor to the Americans,” added Michel 
Ardan, “the only people who could bring such an enter- 
prise to a happy termination, and the only one which could 
produce a President Barbicane. Ah, now we are no longer 
uneasy, I began to think. What will become of us? We shall 
get right royally weary.” 

Barbicane and Nicholl made a gesture of denial. 

“But I have provided for the contingency, my friends,” 
replied Michel; “you have only to speak, and I have chess, 
draughts, cards, and dominoes at your disposal; nothing is 
wanting but a billiard-table.” 

“What!” exclaimed Barbicane; “you brought away such 
trifles ?” 

“Certainly,” replied Michel, “and not only to distract 
ourselves, but also with the laudable intention of endowing 
the Selenite smoking divans with them.” 

“My friend,” said Barbicane, “if the moon is inhabited, 
its inhabitants must have appeared some thousands of years 
before those of the earth, for we cannot doubt that their star 
is much older than ours. If then these Selenites have existed 
their hundreds of thousands of years, and if their brain is 
of the same organization as the human brain, they have 
already invented all that we have invented, and even what 
we may invent in future ages. They have nothing to learn 
from us, and we have everything to learn from them.’^ 

“What I” said Michel ; “you believe that they have artists 
like Phidias, Michael Angelo, or Raphael?” 


708 


ROUND THE MOON 


“Yes.” 

“Poets like Homer, Virgil, Milton, Lamartine, and 
Hugo?” 

“I am sure of it.” 

“Philosophers like Plato, Aristotle, Descartes, Kant?” 

“I have no doubt of it.” 

“Scientific men like Archimedes, Euclid, Pascal, Newton?” 

“I could swear it.” 

“Comic writers like Arnal, and photographers like — like 
Nadar?” 

“Certain.” 

“Then, friend Barbicane, if they are as strong as we are, 
and even stronger — these Selenites — why have they not 
tried to communicate with the earth? why have they not 
launched a lunar projectile to our terrestrial regions?” 

“Who told you that they have never done so?” said Bar- 
bicane seriously. 

“Indeed,” added Nicholl, “it would be easier for them 
than for us, for two reasons ; first, because the attraction 
on the moon’s surface is six times less than on that of the 
earth, which would allow a projectile to rise more easily; 
secondly, because it would be enough to send such a projec- 
tile only at 8,000 leagues instead of 80,000, which would re- 
quire the force of projection to be ten times less strong.” 

“Then,” continued Michel, “I repeat it, why have they 
not done it?” 

“And I repeat,” said Barbicane ; “who told you that the}^ 
have not done it?” 

“When?” 

“Thousands of years before man appeared on earth.” 

“And the projectile — ^where is the projectile? I demand 
to see the projectile.” 

“My friend,” replied Barbicane, “the sea covers five- 
sixths of our globe. From that we may draw five good rea- 
sons for supposing that the lunar projectile, if ever 
launched, is now at the bottom of the Atlantic or the Pacific, 
unless it sped into some crevasse at that period when the 
crust of the earth was not yet hardened.” 

“Old Barbicane,” said Michel, “you have an answer for 


ROUND THE MOON 


709 

everything, and I bow before your wisdom. But there is one 
hypothesis that would suit me better than all the others, 
which is, that the Selenites, being older than we, are wiser, 
and have not invented gunpowder.” 

At this moment Diana joined in the conversation by a 
sonorous barking. She was asking for her breakfast. 

“Ah !” said Michel Ardan, “in our discussion we have for- 
gotten Diana and Satellite.” 

Immediately a good-sized pie was given to the dog, which 
devoured it hungrily. 

“Do you see, Barbicane,” said Michel, “we should have 
made a second Noah’s ark of this projectile, and borne with 
us to the moon a couple of every kind of domestic animal.” 

“I dare say ; but room would have failed us.” 

“Oh!” said Michel, “we might have squeezed a little.” 

“The fact is,” replied Nicholl, “that cows, bulls, and 
horses, and all ruminants, would have been very useful on 
the lunar continent, but unfortunately the car could neither 
have been made a stable nor a shed.” 

“Well, we might at least have brought a donkey, only 
a little donkey; that courageous beast which old Silenus 
loved to mount. I love those old donkeys ; they are the least 
favored animals in creation; they are not only beaten while 
alive, but even after they are dead.” 

“Hov/ do you make that out.?” asked Barbicane. “Why,” 
said Michel, “they make their skins into drums.” 

Barbicane and Nicholl could not help laughing at this 
ridiculous remark. But a cry from their merry companion 
stopped them. The latter was leaning over the spot where 
Satellite lay. He rose, saying: 

“My good Satellite is no longer ill.” 

“Ah!” said Nicholl. 

“No,” answered Michel, “he is dead! There,” added he, 
in a piteous tone, “that is embarrassing. I much fear, my 
poor Diana, that you will leave no progeny in the lunar 
regions !” 

Indeed the unfortunate Satellite had not survived its 
wound. It was quite dead. Michel Ardan looked at his 
friends with a rueful countenance. 


710 


ROUND THE MOON 


“One question presents itself,” said Barbicane. “We can- 
not keep the dead body of this dog with us for the next 
forty-eight hours.” 

“No! certainly not,” replied Nicholl; “but our scuttles 
are fixed on hinges; they can be let down. We will open one, 
and throw the body out into space.” 

The president thought for some moments, and then said: 

“Yes, we must do so, but at the same time taking very 
great precautions.” 

“Why.^” asked Michel. 

“For two reasons which you will understand,” answered 
Barbicane. “The first relates to the air shut up in the pro- 
jectile, and of which we must lose as little as possible.” 

“But we manufacture the air.?” 

“Only in part. We make only the oxygen, my worthy 
Michel; and with regard to that, we must watch that the 
apparatus does not furnish the oxygen in too great a quan- 
tity ; for an excess would bring us very serious physiological 
troubles. But if we make the oxygen, we do not make the 
azote, that medium which the lungs do not absorb, and 
which ought to remain intact; and that azote will escape 
rapidly through the open scuttles.” 

“Oh! the time for throwing out poor Satellite?” said 
Michel. 

“Agreed; but we must act quickly.” 

“And the second reason?” asked Michel. 

“The second reason is that we must not let the outer cold, 
which is excessive, penetrate the projectile or we shall be 
frozen to death.” 

“But the sun?” 

“The sun warms our projectile, which absorbs its rays; 
but it does not warm the vacuum in which we are floating 
at this moment. Where there is no air, there is no more 
heat than diffused light; and the same with darkness: it 
is cold where the sun’s rays do not strike direct. This 
temperature is only the temperature produced by the radi- 
ation of the stars ; that is to say, what the terrestrial globe 
would undergo if the sun disappeared one day.” 

“Which is not to be feared,” replied Nicholl. 


ROUND THE MOON 


711 


“Who knows?” said Michel Ardan. “But, in admitting 
that the sun does not go out, might it not happen that the 
earth might move away from it?” 

“There !” said Barbicane, “there is Michel with his ideas.” 

“And,” continued Michel, “do we not know that in 1861 
the earth passed through the tail of a comet? Or let us sup- 
pose a comet whose power of attraction is greater than that 
of the sun. The terrestrial orbit will bend toward the 
wandering star, and the earth, becoming its satellite, will 
be drawn such a distance that the rays of the sun will have 
no action on its surface.” 

“That might happen, indeed,” replied Barbicane, “but 
the consequences of such a displacement need not be so 
formidable as you suppose.” 

“And why not?” 

“Because the heat and the cold would be equalized on our 
globe. It has been calculated that, had our earth been carried 
along in its course by the comet of 1861, at its perihelion,, 
that is, its nearest approach to the sun, it would have under- 
gone a heat 28,000 times greater than that of summer. But 
this heat, which is sufficient to evaporate the waters, would 
have formed a thick ring of cloud, which would have modi- 
fied that excessive temperature ; hence the compensation be- 
tween the cold of the aphelion and the heat of the perihelion.” 

“At how many degrees,” asked Niclioll, “is the tempera- 
ture of the planetary spaces estimated?” 

“Formerly,” replied Barbicane, “it was greatly exagger- 
ated; but now, after the calculations of Fourier, of the 
French Academy of Science, it is not supposed to exceed 
60° Centigrade below zero.” 

“Pooh!” said Michel, “that’s nothing!” 

“It is very much,” replied Barbicane; “the temperature 
which was observed in the polar regions, at Melville Island 
and Fort Reliance, that is 76° Fahrenheit below zero.” 

“If I mistake not,” said Nicholl, “M. Pouillet, another 
savant, estimates the temperature of space at 250° Fahren- 
heit below zero. We shall, however, be able to verify these 
calculations for ourselves.” 

“Not at present; because the solar rays, beating directly 


ROUND THE MOON 


712 

upon our thermometer, would give, on the contrary, a very 
high temperature. But, when we arrive in the moon, during 
its fifteen days of night at either face, we shall have leisure 
to make the experiment, for our satellite lies in a vacuum.” 

“What do you mean by a vacuum asked Michel. “Is 
it perfectly such.?” 

“It is absolutely void of air.” 

“And is the air replaced by nothing whatever.?” 

“By the ether only,” replied Barbicane. 

“And pray what is the ether.?” 

“The ether, my friend, is an agglomeration of imponder- 
able atoms, which, relatively to their dimensions, are as far 
removed from each other as the celestial bodies are in space. 
It is these atoms which, by their vibratory motion, produce 
both light and heat in the universe.” 

They now proceeded to the burial of Satellite. They had 
merely to drop him into space, in the same way that sailors 
drop a body into the sea; but, as President Barbicane sug- 
gested, they must act quickly, so as to lose as little as pos- 
sible of that air whose elasticity would rapidly have spread 
it into space. The bolts of the right scuttle, the opening of 
which measured about twelve inches across, were carefully 
drawn, while Michel, quite grieved, prepared to launch his 
dog into space. The glass, raised by a powerful lever, which 
enabled it to overcome the pressure of the inside air on the 
walls of the projectile, turned rapidly on its hinges, and 
Satellite was thrown out. Scarcely a particle of air could 
have escaped, and the operation was so successful that later 
on Barbicane did not fear to dispose of the rubbish which 
encumbered the car. 


CHAPTER VI 

aUESTION AND ANSWER 

O N THE 4th of December, when the travelers awoke after 
fifty-four hours’ journey, the chronometer marked five 
o’clock of the terrestrial morning. In time it was just over 


ROUND THE MOON 


713 


five hours and forty minutes, half of that assigned to their 
sojourn in tlie projectile ; but they had already accomplished 
nearly seven-tenths of the way. This peculiarity was due to 
their regularly decreasing speed. 

Now when they observed the earth through the lower 
window, it looked like nothing more than a dark spot, 
drowned in the solar rays. No more crescent, no more cloudy 
light! The next day, at midnight, the earth would be new^ 
at the very moment when the moon would be full. Above,, 
the orb of night was nearing the line followed by the pro- 
jectile, so as to meet it at the given hour. All around the 
black vault wns studded with brilliant points, which seemed 
to move slowly; but, at the great distance they were from 
them, their relative size did not seem to change. The sun and 
stars appeared exactly as they do to us upon earth. As to 
the moon, she was considerably larger ; but the travelers’ 
glasses, not very powerful, did not allow" them as yet to' 
make any useful observations upon her surface, or recon- 
noiter her topographically or geologically. 

Thus the time passed in never-ending conversations all 
about the moon. Each one brought forward his own contin- 
gent of particular facts; Barbicane and Nicholl always 
serious, Michel Ardan always enthusiastic. The projectile^ 
its situation, its direction, incidents which might happen^ 
the precautions necessitated by their fall on to the moon^ 
were inexhaustible matters of conjecture. 

As they w"ere breakfasting, a question of Michel’s, relat- 
ing to the projectile, provoked rather a curious answer from 
Barbicane, which is worth repeating. Michel, supposing it 
to be roughly stopped, while still under its formidable initial 
speed, wished to know what the consequences of the stoppage 
w"ould have been. 

“But,” said Barbicane, “I do not see how it could have 
been stopped.” 

“But let us suppose so,” said Michel. 

“It is an impossible supposition,” said the practical Bar- 
bicane ; “unless the impulsive force had failed ; but even then 
its speed w^ould diminish by degrees, and it would not have 
stopped suddenly.” 


714 


ROUND THE MOON 


“Admit that it had struck a body in space.” 

“What body.?” 

^‘Why that enormous meteor which we met.” 

“Then,” said Nicholl, “the projectile w'ould have been 
broken into a thousand pieces, and we with it.” 

“More than that,” replied Barbicane; “we should have 
been burned to death.” 

“Burned.?” exclaimed Michel, “by Jove! I am sorry it 
did not happen, ‘just to see.’ ” 

“And you would have seen,” replied Barbicane. “It is 
known now that heat is only a modification of motion. When 
water is warmed — that is to say, when heat is added to it — 
its particles are set in motion.” 

“Well,” said Michel, “that is an ingenious theory!” 

“And a true one, my worthy friend ; for it explains every 
phenomenon of caloric. Heat is but the motion of atoms, a 
simple oscillation of the particles of a body. When they ap- 
ply the brake to a train, the train comes to a stop ; but what 
becomes of the motion which it had previously possessed.? 
It is transformed into heat, and the brake becomes hot. 
Why do they grease the axles of the wheels .? To prevent their 
heating, because this heat would be generated by the mo- 
tion which is thus lost by transformation.” 

“Yes, I understand,” replied Michel, “perfectly. For ex- 
ample, when I have run a long time, when I am swimming, 
when I am perspiring in large drops, why am I obliged to 
stop.? Simply because my motion is changed into heat.” 

Barbicane could not help smiling at Michel’s reply ; then, 
returning to his theory, said: 

“Thus, in case of a shock, it would have been with our 
projectile as with a ball which falls in a burning state after 
having struck the metal plate ; it is its motion which is 
turned into heat. Consequently I affirm that, if our projec- 
tile had struck the meteor, its speed thus suddenly checked 
would have raised a heat great enough to turn it into vapor 
instantaneously.” 

“Then,” asked Nicholl, “what would happen if the earth’s 
motion were to stop suddenly?” 


ROUND THE MOON 


715 


“Her temperature would be raised to such a pitch,” said 
Barbicane, “that she would be at once reduced to vapor.” 

“Well,” said Michel, “that is a way of ending the earth 
which will greatly simplify things.” 

“And if the earth fell upon the sun.^” asked Nicholl. 

“According to calculation,” replied Barbicane, “the fall 
would develop a heat equal to that produced by 16,000 
globes of coal, each equal in bulk to our terrestrial globe.” 

“Good additional heat for the sun,” replied Michel Ardan,. 
“of which the inhabitants of Uranus or Neptune would 
doubtless not complain ; they must be perished with cold on 
their planets.” 

“Thus, my friends,” said Barbicane, “all motion sud- 
denly stopped produces heat. And this theory allows us to 
infer that the heat of the solar disc is fed by a hail of 
meteors falling incessantly on its surface. The}^ have even 
calculated ” 

“Oh, dear!” murmured Michel, “the figures are coming.” 

“They have even calculated,” continued the imperturbable 
Barbicane, “that the shock of each meteor on the sun ought 
to produce a heat equal to that of 4,000 masses of coal of 
an equal bulk.” 

“And what is the solar heat.?^” asked Michel. 

“It is equal to that produced by the combustion of a 
stratum of coal surrounding the sun to a depth of forty- 
seven miles.” 

“And that heat ” 

“Would be able to boil two billions nine hundred millions 
of cubic myriameters* of water.” 

“And it does not roast us!” exclaimed Michel., 

“No,” replied Barbicane, “because the terrestrial atmos- 
phere absorbs four-tenths of the solar heat; besides, the 
quantity of heat intercepted by the earth is but a billionth 
part of the entire radiation.” 

“I see that all is for the best,” said Michel, “and that 
this atmosphere is a useful invention ; for it not only allows 
us to breathe, but it prevents us from roasting.” 

* The myriameter is equal to rather more than 10,936 cubic yards English. 


ROUND THE MOON 


716 

‘‘Yes!” said Nicholl, “unfortunately, it will not be the 
same in the moon.” 

“Bah!” said Michel, always hopeful. “If there are in- 
habitants, they must breathe. If there are no longer any, 
they must have left enough oxygen for three people, if only 
at the bottom of ravines, where its own weight will cause it 
to accumulate, and we will not climb the mountains ; that 
is all.” And Michel, rising, went to look at the lunar disc, 
which shone with intolerable brilliancy. 

“By Jove!” said he, “it must be hot up there!” 

“Without considering,” replied Nicholl, “that the day 
lasts 360 hours!” 

“And to compensate that,” said Barbicane, “the nights 
have the same length; and as heat is restored by radiation, 
their temperature can only be that of the pla-netary space.” 

“A pretty country, that!” exclaimed Michel. “Never 
mind ! I wish I was there ! Ah ! my dear comrades, it will be 
rather curious to have the earth for our moon, to see it rise 
on the horizon, to recognize the shape of its continents, and 
to say to oneself, ‘There is America, there is Europe then 
to follow it when it is about to lose itself in the sun’s rays ! 
By the bye, Barbicane, have the Selenites eclipses.^” 

“Yes, eclipses of the sun,” replied Barbicane, “when the 
centers of the three orbs are on a line, the earth being in 
the middle. But they are only partial, during which the 
earth, cast like a screen upon the solar disc, allows the 
greater portion to be seen.” 

“And why,” asked Nicholl, “is there no total eclipse.^ 
Does not the cone of the shadow cast by the earth extend 
beyond the moon.^” 

“Yes, if we do not take into consideration the refraction 
produced by the terrestrial atmosphere. No, if we take that 
refraction into consideration. Thus let S be the horizontal 
parallel, and p the apparent semidiameter ” 

“Oh!” said Michel. “Do speak plainly, you man of 
algebra !” 

“Very well,” replied Barbicane; “in popular language 
the mean distance from the moon to the earth being sixty 
terrestrial radii, the length of the cone of the shadow, on 


ROUND THE MOON 


717 

account of the refraction, is reduced to less than forty-two 
radii. The result is that when there are eclipses, the moon 
finds itself beyond the cone of pure shadow, and that the 
sun sends her its rays, not only from its edges, but also 
from its center.” 

‘‘Then,” said Michel, in a merry tone, ‘‘why are there 
eclipses, when there ought not to be any.f^” 

“Simply because the solar rays are weakened by this re- 
fraction, and the atmosphere through which they pass ex- 
tinguishes the greater part of them!” 

“That reason satisfies me,” replied Michel. “Besides we 
shall see when we get there. Now, tell me, Barbicane, do you 
believe that the moon is an old comet.?” 

“There’s an idea!” 

“Yes,” replied Michel, with an amiable swagger, “I have 
a few ideas of that sort.” 

“But that idea does not spring from Michel,” answered 
Nicholl. 

“Well, then, I am a plagiarist.” 

“No doubt about it. According to the ancients, the Arca- 
dians pretend that their ancestors inhabited the earth before 
the moon became her satelHte. Starting from this fact, some 
scientific men have seen in the moon a comet whose orbit will 
one day bring it so near to the earth that it will be held there 
by its attraction.” 

“Is there any truth in this hypothesis.?” asked Michel. 

“None whatever,” said Barbicane, “and the proof is, 
that the moon has preserved no trace of the gaseous envelope 
which always accompanies comets.” 

“But,” continued Nicholl, “before becoming the earth’s 
satellite, could not the moon, when in her perihelion, pass so 
near the sun as by evaporation to get rid of all those gaseous 
substances.?” 

“It is possible, friend Nicholl, but not probable.” 

“Why not.?” 

“Because — Faith I do not know.” 

“Ah!” exclaimed Michel, “what hundreds of volumes we 
might make of all that we do not know!” 

“Ah! indeed. What time is it.?” asked Barbicane. 


718 


ROUND THE MOON 


“Three o’clock,” answer Nicholl. 

“How time goes,” said Michel, “in the conversation of 
scientific men such as we are! Certainly, I feel I know too 
much! I feel that I am becoming a well!” 

Saying which, Michel hoisted himself to the roof of the 
projectile, “to observe the moon better,” he pretended. Dur- 
ing this time his companions were watching through the 
lower glass. Nothing new to note! 

When Michel Ardan came down, he went to the side scut- 
tle ; and suddenly they heard an exclamation of surprise ! 

“What is it.^” asked Barbicane. 

The president approached the window, and saw a sort 
of flattened sack floating some yards from the projectile. 
This object seemed as motionless as the projectile, and was 
consequently animated with the same ascending movement. 

“What is that machine.^” continued Michel Ardan. “Is it 
one of the bodies of space which our projectile keeps within 
its attraction, and which will accompany it to the moon.^” 

“What astonishes me,” said Nicholl, “is that the specific 
weight of the body, which is certainly less than that of the 
projectile, allows it to keep so perfectly on a level with it.” 

“Nicholl,” replied Barbicane, after a moment’s reflection, 
“I do not know what the object is, but I do know why it 
maintains our level.” 

“And why.?” 

“Because we are floating in space, my dear captain, and 
in space bodies fall or move (which is the same thing) with 
equal speed whatever be their weight or form; it is the air, 
which by its resistance creates these differences in weight. 
When you create a vacuum in a tube, the objects you send 
through it, grains of dust or grains of lead, fall with the 
same rapidity. Here in space is the same cause and the 
same effect.” 

“Just so,” said Nicholl, “and everything we throw out of 
the projectile will accompany it until it reaches the moon.” 

“Ah! fools that we are!” exclaimed Michel. 

“Why that expletive.?” asked Barbicane. 

“Because we might have filled the projectile with useful 
objects, books, instruments, tools, etc. We could have thrown 


ROUND THE MOON 


719 

them all out, and all would have followed in our train. But 
happy thought ! Why cannot we walk outside like the 
meteor ? Why cannot we launch into space through the 
scuttle? What enjoyment it would be to feel oneself thus 
suspended in ether, more favored than the birds who must 
use their wings to keep themselves up!” 

‘‘Granted,” said Barbicane, “but how to breathe?” 

“Hang the air, to fail so inopportunely I” 

“But if it did not fail, Michel, your density being less 
than that of the projectile, you would soon be left behind.” 

“Then we must remain in our car?” 

“We must!” 

“Ah !” exclaimed Michel, in a loud voice. 

“What is the matter,” asked Nicholl. 

“I know, I guess, what this pretended meteor is! It is 
no asteroid which is accompanying us! It is not a piece 
of a planet.” 

“What is it then?” asked Barbicane. 

“It is our unfortunate dog ! It is Diana’s husband !” 

Indeed, this deformed, unrecognizable object, reduced to 
nothing, was the body of Satellite, flattened like a bagpipe 
without wind, and ever mounting, mounting! 


CHAPTER VII 

A MOMENT OF INTOXICATION 

Thus a phenomenon, curious but explicable, was happen- 
ing under these strange conditions. 

Every object thrown from the projectile would follow the 
same course and never stop until it did. There was a subject 
for conversation which the whole evening could not exhaust. 

Besides, the excitement of the three travelers increased 
as they drew near the end of their journey. They expected 
unforeseen incidents, and new phenomena ; and nothing 
would have astonished them in the frame of mind they then 
were in. Their overexcited imagination went faster than the 
projectile, whose speed was evidently diminishing, though in- 


ROUND THE MOON 


720 

sensibly to themselves. But the moon grew larger to their 
eyes, and they fancied if they stretched out their hands they 
could seize it. 

The next day, the 5th of November, at five in the morn- 
ing, all three were on foot. That day was to be the last of 
their journey, if all calculations were true. That very night, 
at twelve o’clock, in eighteen hours, exactly at the full moon^ 
they would reach its brilliant disc. The next midnight would 
see that journey ended, the most extraordinary of ancient or 
modern times. Thus from the first of the morning, through 
the scuttles silvered by its rays, they saluted the orb of 
night with a confident and joyous hurrah. 

The moon was advancing majestically along the starry 
firmament. A few more degrees, and she would reach the 
exact point where her meeting with the projectile was to 
take place. 

According to his own observations, Barbicane reckoned 
that they would land on her northern hemisphere, where 
stretch immense plains, and where mountains are rare. A 
favorable circumstance if, as they thought, the lunar at- 
mosphere was stored only in its depths. 

“Besides,” observed Michel Ardan, “a plain is easier to 
disembark upon than a mountain. A Selenite, deposited in 
Europe on the summit of Mont Blanc, or in Asia on the top 
of the Himalayas, would not be quite in the right place.” 

“And,” added Captain Nicholl, “on a flat ground, the 
projectile will remain motionless when it has once touched; 
whereas on a declivity it would roll like an avalanche, and 
not being squirrels we should not come out safe and sound. 
So it is all for the best.” 

Indeed, the success of the audacious attempt no longer 
appeared doubtful. But Barbicane was proccupied with one 
thought; but not wishing to make his companions uneasy, 
he kept silence on the subject. 

The direction the projectile was taking toward the moon’s 
northern hemisphere, showed that her course had been 
slightly altered. The discharge, mathematically calculated, 
would carry the projectile to the very center of the lunar 
disc. If it did not land there, there must have been some 


ROUND THE MOON 


m 


deviation. What had caused it? Barbicane could neither 
imagine nor determine the importance of the deviation, for 
there were no points to go by. 

He hoped, however, that it would have no other result 
than that of bringing them near the upper border of the 
moon, a region more suitable for landing. 

Without imparting his uneasiness to his companions, 
Barbicane contented himself wdth constantly observing the 
moon, in order to see whether the course of the projectile 
would not be altered; for the situation would have been 
terrible if it failed in its aim, and being carried beyond the 
disc should be launched into interplanetary space. At that 
moment, the moon, instead of appearing flat like a disc, 
showed its convexity. If the sun’s rays had struck it obli- 
quely, the shadow thrown would have brought out the high 
mountains, which would have been clearly detached. The eye 
might have gazed into the crater’s gaping abysses, and fol- 
lowed the capricious fissures which wound through the im- 
mense plains. But all relief was as yet leveled in intense 
brilliancy. They could scarcely distinguish those large spots 
which give to the moon the appearance of a human face. 

‘‘Face, indeed!” said Michel Ardan; “but I am sorry for 
the amiable sister of Apollo. A very pitted face !” 

But the travelers, now so near the end, were incessantly 
observing this new world. They imagined themselves walk- 
ing through its unknown countries, climbing its highest 
peaks, descending into its lowest depths. Here and there 
they fancied they saw vast seas, scarcely kept together 
under so rarefied an atmosphere, and water-courses empty- 
ing the mountain tributaries. Leaning over the abyss, they 
hoped to catch some sounds from that orb forever mute in 
the solitude of space. That last day left them. 

They took down the most trifling details. A vague un- 
easiness took possession of them as they neared the end. 
This uneasiness would have been doubled had they felt how 
their speed had decreased. It would have seemed to them 
quite insufficient to carry them to the end. It was because 
the projectile then “weighed” almost nothing. Its weight 
was ever decreasing, and would be entirely annihilated on 


722 


ROUND THE MOON 


that line where the lunar and terrestrial attractions would 
neutralize each other. 

But in spite of his preoccupation, Michel Ardan did not 
forget to prepare the morning repast with his accustomed 
punctuality. They ate with a good appetite. Nothing was 
so excellent as the soup liquefied by the heat of the gas ; noth- 
ing better than the preserved meat. Some glasses of good 
French wine crowned the repast, causing Michel Ardan to 
remark that the lunar vines, warmed by that ardent sun, 
ought to distill even more generous wines ; that is, if they 
existed. In any case, the far-seeing Frenchman had taken 
care not to forget in his collection some precious cuttings of 
the Medoc and Cote d’Or, upon which he founded his hopes. 

Reiset and Regnault’s apparatus worked with great regu- 
larity. Not an atom of carbonic acid resisted the potash; 
and as to the oxygen. Captain Nicholl said ‘fit was of the 
first quality.” The little watery vapor enclosed in the pro- 
jectile mixing with the air tempered the dryness; and many 
apartments in London, Paris, or New York, and many 
theaters, were certainly not in such a healthy condition. 

But that it might act with regularity, the apparatus must 
be kept in perfect order ; so each morning Michel visited the 
escape regulators, tried the taps, and regulated the heat of 
the gas by the pyrometer. Everything had gone well up to 
that time, and the travelers, imitating the worthy Joseph 
T. Maston, began to acquire a degree of embonpoint which 
would have rendered them unrecognizable if their imprison- 
ment had been prolonged to some months. In a word, they 
behaved like chickens in a coop; they were getting fat. 

In looking through the scuttle Barbicane saw the specter 
of the dog, and other divers objects which had been thrown 
from the projectile, obstinately following them. Diana howled 
lugubriously on seeing the remains of Satellite, which seemed 
as motionless as if they reposed on the solid earth. 

“Do you know, my friends,” said Michel Ardan, “that 
if one of us had succumbed to the shock consequent on 
departure, we should have had a great deal of trouble to 
bury him? What am I saying? to etherize him, as here ether 


ROUND THE MOON 723 

takes the place of earth. You see the accusing body would 
have followed us into space like a remorse.” 

“That would have been sad,” said Nicholl. 

“Ah !” continued Michel, “what I regret is not being able 
to take a walk outside. What voluptuousness to float amid 
this radiant ether, to bathe oneself in it, to wrap oneself 
in the sun’s pure rays. If Barbicane had only, thought of 
furnishing us with a diving apparatus and an air-pump, I 
could have ventured out and assumed fanciful attitudes of 
feigned monsters on the top of the projectile.” 

“Well, old Michel,” replied Barbicane, “you would not 
have made a feigned monster long, for in spite of your 
diver’s dress, swollen by the expansion of air within you, 
you would have burst like a shell, or rather like a balloon 
which has risen too high. So do not regret it, and do not 
forget this — as long as we float in space, all sentimental 
walks beyond the projectile are forbidden.” 

Michel Ardan allowed himself to be convinced to a cer- 
tain extent. He admitted that the thing was difficult but not 
impossible, a word which he never uttered. 

The conversation passed from this subject to another, 
not failing for an instant. It seemed to the three friends 
as though, under present conditions, ideas shot up in their 
brains as leaves shoot at the first warmth of spring. They 
felt bewildered. In the middle of the questions and answers 
which crossed each other, Nicholl put one question which 
did not find an immediate solution. 

“Ah, indeed!” said he; “it is all very well to go to the 
moon, but how to get back again .P” 

His two interlocutors looked surprised. One would have 
thought that this possibility now occurred to them for the 
first time. 

“What do you mean by that, Nicholl.?” asked Barbicane 
gravely. 

“To ask for means to leave a country,” added Michel, 
“when we have not yet arrived there, seems to me rather 
inopportune.” 

“I do not say that, wishing to draw back,” replied Nicholl ; 


ROUND THE MOON 


724 ! 

“but I repeat my question, and I ask, ‘How shall we 
return?”’ 

“I know nothing about it,” answered Barbicane. 

“And I,” said Michel, “if I had known how to return, 
I would never have started.” 

“There’s an answer!” cried Nicholl. 

“I quite approve of Michel’s words,” said Barbicane; 
“and add, that the question has no real interest. Later, 
when we think it advisable to return, we will take counsel 
together. If the Columbiad is not there, the projectile 
will be.” 

“That is a step certainly. A ball without a gun!” 

“The gun,” replied Barbicane, “can be manufactured. 
The powder can be made. Neither metals, saltpeter, nor 
coal can fail in the depths of the moon, and we need only 
go 8,000 leagues in order to fall upon the terrestrial globe 
by virtue of the mere laws of weight.” 

“Enough,” said Michel with animation. “Let it be no 
longer a question of returning: we have already entertained 
it too long. As to communicating with our former earthly 
colleagues, that will not be difficult.” 

“And how?” 

“By means of meteors launched by lunar volcanoes.” 

“Well thought of, Michel,” said Barbicane in a convinced 
tone of voice. “Laplace has calculated that a force five times 
greater than that of our gun would suffice to send a meteor 
from the moon to the earth, and there is not one volcano 
which has not a greater power of propulsion than that.” 

“Hurrah!” exclaimed Michel; “these meteors are handy 
postmen, and cost nothing. And how we shall be able to 
laugh at the post-office administration I But now I think 
of it ” 

“What do you think of?” 

“A capital idea. Why did we not fasten a thread to our 
projectile, and we could have exchanged telegrams with 
the earth?” 

“The deuce!” answered Nicholl. “Do you consider the 
weight of a thread 250,000 miles long nothing?” 

“As nothing. They could have trebled the Columbiad’s 


ROUND THE MOON 


725 


charge; they could have quadrupled or quintupled it!” ex- 
claimed Michel, with whom the verb took a higher intonation 
each time. 

“There is but one little objection to make to your prop- 
osition,” replied Barbicane, “which is that, during the 
rotary motion of the globe, our thread would have wound 
itself round it like a chain on a capstan, and that it would 
inevitably have brought us to the ground.” 

“By the thirty-nine stars of the Union!” said Michel, 
“I have nothing but impracticable ideas to-day ; ideas 
worthy of J. T. Maston. But I have a notion that, if we 
do not return to earth, J. T. Maston will be able to come 
to us.” 

“Yes, he’ll come,” replied Barbicane; “he is a worthy 
and a courageous comrade. Besides, what is easier? Is not 
the Columbiad still buried in the soil of Florida? Is cotton 
and nitric acid wanted wherewith to manufacture the py- 
roxile? Will not the moon again pass to the zenith of Flor- 
ida? In eighteen years’ time will she not occupy exactly the 
same place as to-day?” 

“Yes,” continued Michel, “yes, Maston will come, and 
with him our friends Elphinstone, Blomsberry, all the mem- 
bers of the Gun Club, and they will be well received. And 
by and by they will run trains of projectiles between the 
earth and the moon! Hurrah for J. T. Maston!” 

It is probable that, if the Hon. J. T. IMaston did not 
hear the hurrahs uttered in his honor, his ears at least 
tingled. What was he doing then? Doubtless, posted in the 
Rocky Mountains, at the station, of Long’s Peak, he was 
trying to find the invisible projectile gravitating in space. 
If he was thinking of his dear companions, we must allow 
that they were not far behind him; and that, under the in- 
fluence of a strange excitement, they were devoting to him 
their best thoughts. 

But whence this excitement, which was evidently grow- 
ing upon the tenants of the projectile? Their sobriety could 
not be doubted. This strange irritation of the brain, must 
it be attributed to the peculiar circumstances under which 
they found themselves, to their proximity to the orb of 


726 


ROUND THE MOON 


night, from which only a few hours separated them, to some 
secret influence of the moon acting upon their nervous sys- 
tem? Their faces were as rosy as if they had been exposed 
to the roaring flames of an oven ; their voices resounded in 
loud accents; their words escaped like a champagne cork 
driven out by carbonic acid; their gestures became annoy- 
ing, they wanted so much room to perform them; and, 
strange to say, they none of them noticed this great tension 
of the mind. 

“Now,” said Nicholl, in a short tone, “now that I do not 
know whether we shall ever return from the moon, I want to 
know what we are going to do there?” 

“What we are going to do there?” replied Barbicane, 
stamping with his foot as if he was in a fencing saloon ; 
“I do not know.” 

“You do not know!” exclaimed Michel, with a bellow 
which provoked a sonorous echo in the projectile. 

“No, I have not even thought about it,” retorted Barbi- 
cane, in the same loud tone. 

“Well, I know,” replied Michel. 

“Speak, then,” cried Nicholl, who could no longer con- 
tain the growling of his voice. 

“I shall speak if it suits me,” exclaimed Michel, seizing 
his companions’ arms with violence. 

‘‘It mmt suit you,” said Barbicane, with an eye on fire 
and a threatening hand. “It was you who drew us into this 
frightful journey, and we want to know what for.” 

“Yes,” said the captain, “now that I do not know where 
I am going, I want to know why I am going.” 

“Why?” exclaimed Michel, jumping a yard high, “why? 
To take possession of the moon in the name of the United 
States ; to add a fortieth State to the Union ; to colonize the 
lunar regions; to cultivate them, to people them, to trans- 
port thither all the prodigies of art, of science, and industry ; 
to civilize the Selenites, unless they are more civilized than 
we are; and to constitute them a republic, if they are not 
already one!” 

“And if there are no Selenites?” retorted Nicholl, who. 


ROUND THE MOON 


under the influence of this unaccountable intoxication, was 
very contradictory. 

“Who said that there were no Selenites.^” exclaimed 
Michel in a threatening tone. 

“I do,” howled Nicholl. 

“Captain,” said Michel, “do not repeat that insolence, or 
I will knock your teeth down your throat !” 

The two adversaries were going to fall upon each other, 
and the incoherent discussion threatened to merge into a 
fight, when Barbicane intervened with one bound. 

“Stop, miserable men,” said he, separating his two com- 
panions ; “if there are no Selenites, we will do without them.” 

“Yes,” exclaimed Michel, who was not particular; “yes, 
we will do without them. We have only to make Selenites. 
Down with the Selenites !” 

“The empire of the moon belongs to us,” said Nicholl. 

“Let us three constitute the republic.” 

“I will be the congress,” cried Michel. 

“And I the senate,” retorted Nicholl. 

“And Barbicane, the president,” howled Michel. 

“Not a president elected by the nation,” replied Barbi- 
cane. 

“Very well, a president elected by the congress,” cried 
Michel; “and as I am the congress, you are unanimously 
elected !” 

“Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! for President Barbicane,” ex- 
claimed Nicholl. 

“Hip ! hip ! hip !” vociferated Michel Ardan. 

Then the president and the senate struck up in a tre- 
mendous voice the popular song “Yankee Doodle,” while 
from the congress resounded the masculine tones of the 
“Marseillaise.” 

Then they struck up a frantic dance, with maniacal ges- 
tures, idiotic stampings, and somersaults like those of the 
boneless clowns in the circus. Diana, joining in the dance, 
and howling in her turn, jumped to the top of the projectile. 
An unaccountable flapping of wings was then heard amid 
most fantastic cock-crows, while five or six hens fluttered 
like bats against the walls. 


728 


ROUND THE MOON 


Then the three traveling companions, acted upon by 
some unaccountable influence above that of intoxication, in- 
flamed by the air which had set their respiratory apparatus 
on fire, fell motionless to the bottom of the projectile. 


CHAPTER VIII 

AT SEVENTY-EIGHT THOUSAND FIVE HUNDRED AND FOUR- 
TEEN LEAGUES 

Wha, had happened.^ Whence the cause of this singular 
intoxication, the consequences of which might have been 
very disastrous? A simple blunder of Michel’s, which, fortu- 
nately, Nicholl was able to correct in time. 

After a perfect swoon, which lasted some minutes, the 
captain, recovering first, soon collected his scattered senses. 
Although he had breakfasted only two hours before, he felt 
a gnawing hunger, as if he had not eaten anything for sev- 
eral days. Everything about him, stomach and brain, were 
overexcited to the highest degree. He got up and demanded 
from Michel a supplementary repast. Michel, utterly done 
up, did not answer. 

Nicholl then tried to prepare some tea destined to help 
the absorption of a dozen sandwiches. He first tried to get 
some fire, and struck a match sharply. What was his sur- 
prise to see the sulphur shine with so extraordinary a 
brilliancy as to be almost unbearable to the eye. From the 
gas-burner which he lit rose a flame equal to a jet of electric 
light. 

A revelation dawned on Nicholl’s mind. That intensity of 
light, the physiological troubles which had arisen in him, 
the overexcitement of all his moral and quarrelsome facul- 
ties — ^lie understood all. 

‘‘The oxygen!” he exclaimed. 

And leaning over the air apparatus, he saw that the tap 
was allowing the scentless colorless gas to escape freely, life- 
giving, but in its pure state producing the gravest disorders 


ROUND THE MOON 7^9 

in the system. Michel had blunderingly opened the tap of 
the apparatus to the full. 

Nicholl hastened to stop the escape of oxygen with which 
the atmosphere was saturated, which would have been the 
death of the travelers, not by suffocation, but by combus- 
tion. An hour later, the air less charged with it restored the 
lungs to their normal condition. By degrees the three friends 
recovered from their intoxication; but they were obliged to 
sleep themselves sober over their oxygen as a drunkard does 
over his wine. 

When Michel learned his share of the responsibility of 
this incident, he was not much disconcerted. This unex- 
pected drunkenness broke the monotony of the journey. 
Many foolish things had been said while under its influence, 
but also quickly forgotten. 

‘‘And then,” added the merry Frenchman, “I am not 
sorry to have tasted a little of this heady gas. Do you know, 
my friends, that a curious establishment might be founded 
wuth rooms of oxygen, where people whose system is weak- 
ened could for a few hours live a more active life. Fancy 
parties where the room was saturated with this heroic fluid, 
theaters where it should be kept at high pressure; what 
passion in the souls of the actors and spectators! what Are, 
what enthusiasm! And if, instead of an assembly only a 
whole people could be saturated, what activity in its func- 
tions, what a supplement to life it would derive. From an 
exhausted nation they might make a great and strong one, 
and I know more than one state in old Europe which ought 
to put itself under the regime of oxygen for the sake of its 
health!” 

Michel spoke with so much animation that one might 
have fancied that the tap was still too open. But a few 
Avords from Barbicane soon scattered his enthusiasm. 

“That is all very well, friend Michel,” said he, “but will 
you inform us where these chickens came from which have 
mixed themselves up in our concert 

“Those chickens.^” 

“Yes.” 


ROUND THE MOON 


730 

Indeed, half a dozen cliickens and a fine cock were walk- 
ing about, flapping their wings and chattering. 

‘‘Ah, the awkward things !” exclaimed Michel. “The oxy- 
gen has made them revolt.” 

“But what do you want to do with these chickens asked 
Barbicane. 

“To acclimatize them in the moon, by Jove!” 

“Then why did you hide them.?” 

“A joke, my worthy president, a simple joke, which has 
proved a miserable failure. I wanted to set them free on the 
lunar continent, without saying anything. Oh, what would 
have been your amazement on seeing these earthly-winged 
animals pecking in the lunar fields I” 

“You rascal, you unmitigated rascal,” replied Barbicane, 
“you do not want oxygen to mount to the head. You are 
always what we were under the influence of the gas; you 
are always foolish!” 

“Ah, who says that we were not wise then.?” replied 
Michel Ardan. 

After this philosophical reflection, the three friends set 
about restoring the order of the projectile. Chickens and 
cock were reinstated in their coop. But while proceeding 
with this operation, Barbicane and his two companions had 
a most desired perception of a new phenomenon. From the 
moment of leaving the earth, their own weight, that of the 
projectile, and the objects it enclosed, had been subject to 
an increasing diminution. If they could not prove this loss 
of the projectile, a moment would arrive when it would be 
sensibly felt upon themselves and the utensils and instru- 
ments they used. 

It is needless to say that a scale would not show this loss ; 
for the weight destined to weigh the object would have lost 
exactly as much as the object itself ; but a spring steelyard 
for example, the tension of which was independent of the 
attraction, would have given a just estimate of this loss. 

We know that the attraction, otherwise called the weight, 
is in proportion to the densities of bodies, and inversely as 
the squares of the distances. Hence this effect: If the earth 
had been alone in space, if the other celestial bodies had been 


ROUND THE MOON 


731 


suddenly annihilated, the projectile, according to Newton’s 
laws, would weigh less as it got farther from the earth, but 
without ever losing its weight entirely, for the terrestrial 
attraction v.ould always have made itself felt, at whatever 
distance. 

But, in reality, a time must come when the projectile 
would no longer be subject to the law of weight, after allow- 
ing for the other celestial bodies whose effect could not be 
set down as zero. Indeed, the projectile’s course was being 
traced between the earth and the moon. As it distanced the 
earth, the terrestrial attraction diminished: but the lunar 
attraction rose in proportion. There must then come a point 
wliere these two attractions would neutralize each other: 
the projectile would possess weight no longer. If the moon’s 
and the earth’s densities had been equal, this point would 
have been at an equal distance between the two orbs. But 
taking the different densities into consideration, it was easy 
to reckon that this point would be situated at ^ ths of the 
whole journey, i.e.^ at 78,514 leagues from the earth. At 
this point, a body having no principle of speed or displace- 
ment in itself, would remain immovable forever, being at- 
tracted equally by both orbs, and not being drawn more to- 
ward one than toward the other. 

Now if the projectile’s impulsive force had been correctly 
calculated, it would attain this point without speed, having 
lost all trace of weight, as well as all the objects within it. 
What would happen then.^^ Three hypotheses presented 
themselves. 

1. Either it would retain a certain amount of motion, and 
pass the point of equal attraction, and fall upon the moon 
by virtue of the excess of the lunar attraction over the 
terrestrial. 

2. Or, its speed failing, and unable to reach the point of 
equal attraction, it would fall upon the moon by virtue of 
the excess of the lunar attraction over the terrestrial. 

3. Or, lastly, animated with sufficient speed to enable it 
to reach the neutral point, but not sufficient to pass it, it 
would remain forever suspended in that spot like the pre- 
tended tomb of Mahomet, between the zenith and the nadir. 


ROUND THE MOON 


Such was their situation ; and Barbicane clearly explainec 
the consequences to his traveling; companions, which greatly 
interested them. But how should they know when the pro- 
jectile had reached this neutral point situated at that dis' 
tance, especially when neither themselves, nor the objects 
enclosed in the projectile, would be any longer subject to 
the laws of weight.^^ 

Up to this time, the travelers, w^hile admitting that this 
action w^as constantly decreasing, had not yet become sen- 
sible to its total absence. 

But that day, about eleven o’clock in the morning, Nicholl 
having accidentally let a glass slip from his hand, the glass, 
instead of falling, remained suspended in the air. 

“Ah !” exclaimed Michel Ardan, “that is rather an amus- 
ing piece of natural philosophy.” 

And immediately divers other objects, firearms and 
bottles, abandoned to themselves, held themselves up as by 
enchantment. Diana too, placed in space by Michel, repro- 
duced, but without any trick, the wonderful suspension 
practiced by Caston and Robert Houdin. Indeed the dog did 
not seem to know that she was floating in air. 

The three adventurous companions were surprised and 
stupefied, despite their scientific reasonings. They felt 
themselves being carried into the domain of wonders! they 
felt that weight was really wanting to their bodies. If they 
stretched out their arms, they did not attempt to fall. Their 
heads shook on their shoulders. Their feet no longer clung 
to the floor of the projectile. They were like drunken men 
having no stability in themselves. 

Fancy has depicted men without reflection, others without 
shadow. But here reality, by the neutralizations of attrac- 
tive forces, produced men in whom nothing had any weight, 
and who weighed nothing themselves. 

Suddenly Michel, taking a spring, left the floor and re- 
mained suspended in the air, like Murillo’s monk of the 
Cusine des Anges. 

The two friends joined him instantly, and all three 
formed a miraculous “Ascension” in the center of the 
projectile. 


ROUND THE MOON 


733 


“Is it to be believed? is it probable? is it possible?” ex- 
claimed Michel ; “and yet it is so. Ah ! if Raphael had seen 
us thus, what an ‘Assumption’ he would have thrown upon 
canvas !” 

^^The ‘Assumption’ cannot last,” replied Barbicane. “If 
the projectile passes the neutral point, the lunar attraction 
will draw us to the moon.” 

“Then our feet will be upon the roof,” replied Michel. 

“No,” said Barbicane, “because the projectile’s center of 
gravity is very low; it will only turn by degrees.” 

“Then all our portables will be upset from top to bottom, 
that is a fact.” 

“Calm yourself, Michel,” replied Nicholl; “no upset is to 
be feared; not a thing will move, for the projectile’s evolu- 
tion will be imperceptible.” 

“Just so,” continued Barbicane; “and when it has passed 
the point of equal attraction, its base, being the heavier, 
will draw it perpendicularly to the moon ; but, in order that 
this phenomenon should take place, we must have passed the 
neutral line.” 

“Pass the neutral line,” cried Michel; “then let us do as 
the sailors do when they cross the equator.” 

A slight side movement brought Michel back toward the 
padded side ; thence he took a bottle and glasses, placed them 
“in space” before his companions, and, drinking merrily, 
they saluted the line with a triple hurrah. The influence of 
these attractions scarcely lasted an hour; the travelers felt 
themselves insensibly drawn toward the floor, and Barbicane 
fancied that the conical end of the projectile was varying 
a little from its normal direction toward the moon. By an 
inverse motion the base was approaching first; the lunar 
attraction was prevailing over the terrestrial; the fall to- 
ward the moon was beginning, almost imperceptibly as yet, 
but by degrees the attractive force would become stronger, 
the fall would be more decided, the projectile, drawn by its 
base, would turn its cone to the earth, and fall with ever- 
increasing speed on to the surface of the Selenite continent; 
their destination would then be attained. Now nothing could 


ROUND THE MOON 


734 

prevent the success of their enterprise, and Nicholl and 
Michel Ardan shared Barbicane’s joy. 

Then they chatted of all the phenomena which had as- 
tonished them one after the other, particularly the neutrali- 
zation of the laws of weight. Michel Ardan, always enthusi- 
astic, drew conclusions which were purely fanciful. 

‘‘Ah, my worthy friends,” he exclaimed, “what progress 
we should make if on earth we could throw off some of that 
weight, some of that chain which binds us to her ; it would 
be the prisoner set at liberty; no more fatigue of either 
arms or legs. Or, if it is true that in order to fly on the 
earth’s surface, to keep oneself suspended in the air merely 
by the play of the muscles, there requires a strength a hun- 
dred and fifty times greater than that which we possess, a 
simple act of volition, a caprice, would bear us into space, 
if attraction did not exist.” 

“Just so,” said Nicholl, smiling; “if we could succeed in 
suppressing weight as they suppress pain by anaethesia, that 
would change the face of modern society !” 

“Yes,” cried Michel, full of his subject, “destroy weight, 
and no more burdens !” 

“Well said,” replied Barbicane; “but if nothing had any 
weight, nothing would keep in its place, not even your hat 
on your head, worthy Michel ; nor your house, whose stones 
only adhere by weight; not a boat, whose stability on the 
water is caused only by weight; not even the ocean, whose 
waves would no longer be equalized by terrestrial attraction ; 
and lastly, not even the atmosphere, whose atoms, being no 
longer held in their places, would disperse in space !” 

“That is tiresome,” retorted Michel; “nothing like these 
matter-of-fact people for bringing one back to the bare 
reality.” 

“But console yourself, Michel,” continued Barbicane, “for 
if no orb exists from whence all laws of weight are banished, 
you are at least going to visit one where it is much less than 
on the earth.” 

“The moon 

“Yes, the moon, on whose surface objects weigh six times 
less than on the earth, a phenomenon easy to prove.” 


ROUND THE MOON 


735 


“And we shall feel it?” asked Michel. 

“Evidently, as two hundred pounds will only weigh thirty 
pounds on the surface of the moon.” 

“And our muscular strength will not diminish?” 

“Not at all; instead of jumping one yard high, you will 
rise eighteen feet high.” 

“But we shall be regular Herculeses in the moon!” ex- 
claimed Michel. 

“Yes,” replied Nicholl ; “for if the height of the Selenites 
is in proportion to the density of their globe, they will be 
scarcely a foot high.” 

“Lilliputians I” ejaculated Michel; “I shall play the part 
of Gulliver. We are going to realize the fable of the giants. 
This is the advantage of leaving one’s own planet and over- 
running the solar world.” 

“One moment, Michel,” answered Barbicane ; “if you wish 
to play the part of Gulliver, only visit the inferior planets, 
such as Mercury, Venus, or Mars, whose density is a little 
less than that of the earth ; but do not venture into the great 
planets, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune; for there the 
order will be changed, and you will become Lilliputian.” 

“And in the sun?” 

“In the sun, if its density is thirteen hundred and twenty- 
four thousand times greater, and the attraction is twenty- 
seven times greater than on the surface of our globe, keep- 
ing everything in proportion, the inhabitants ought to be 
at least two hundred feet high.” 

“By Jove!” exclaimed Michel; “I should be nothing more 
than a pigmy, a shrimp !” 

“Gulliver with the giants,” said Nicholl. 

“Just so,” replied Barbicane. 

“And it would not be quite useless to carry some pieces 
of artillery to defend oneself.” 

“Good,” replied Nicholl; “your projectiles would have 
no effect on the sun ; they would fall back on the earth after 
some minutes.” 

“That is a strong remark.” 

“It is certain,” replied Barbicane; “the attraction is so 
great on this enormous orb, that an object weighing 70,000 


ROUND THE MOON 


786 

pounds on the earth would weigh but 1,920 pounds on the 
surface of the sun. If you were to fall upon it you would 
weigh — ^let me see — about 5,000 pounds, a w’^eight which 
you w^ould never be able to raise again.” 

“The devil!” said Michel; “one w’^ould want a portable 
crane. However, w^e will be satisfied with the moon for the 
present; there at least we shall cut a great figure. We will 
see about the sun by and by.” 


CHAPTER IX 

THE CONSEOUENCES OF A DEVIATION 

Barbicane had now no fear of the issue of the journey, 
at least as far as the projectile’s impulsive force w^as con- 
cerned; its own speed would carry it beyond the neutral 
line; it would certainly not return to the earth; it w^ould 
certainly not remain motionless on the line of attraction. 
One single hypothesis remained to be realized, the arrival 
of the projectile at its destination by the action of the lunar 
attraction. 

It was in reality a fall of 8,296 leagues on an orb, it is 
true, where w^eight could only be reckoned at one sixth of 
terrestrial w^eight; a formidable fall, nevertheless, and one 
against wliich every precaution must be taken without delay. 

These precautions were of tw^o sorts, some to deaden the 
shock when the projectile should touch the lunar soil, others 
to delay the fall, and consequently make it less violent. 

To deaden the shock, it w^as a pity that Barbicane was no 
longer able to employ the means w^hich had so ably w^eak- 
ened the shock at departure, that is to say, by water used 
as springs and the partition-breaks. 

The partitions still existed but water failed, for they 
could not use their reserve, w^hich was precious, in case dur- 
ing the first days the liquid element should be found w^ant- 
ing on lunar soil. 

And indeed this reserve would have been quite insufficient 
for a spring. The layer of water stored in the projectile at 


ROUND THE MOON 


737 


the time of starting upon their journey occupied no less 
than three feet in depth, and spread over a surface of not 
less than fifty-four square feet. Besides, the cistern did not 
contain one-fifth part of it ; they must therefore give up this 
efficient means of deadening the shock of arrival. Happily, 
Barbicane, not content with employing water, had furnished 
the movable disc with strong spring plugs, destined to 
lessen the shock against the base after the breaking of the 
horizontal partitions. These plugs still existed; they had 
only to readjust them and replace the movable disc; every 
piece, easy to handle, as their weight was now scarcely felt, 
was quickly mounted. 

The different pieces were fitted without trouble, it being 
only a matter of bolts and screws; tools were not wanting, 
and soon the reinstated disc lay on steel plugs, like a table 
on its legs. One inconvenience resulted from the replacing 
of the disc, the lower window was blocked up; thus it was 
impossible for the travelers to observe the moon from that 
opening while they were being precipitated perpendicularly 
upon her ; but they were obliged to give it up ; even by the 
side openings they could still see vast lunar regions, as an 
aeronaut sees the earth from his car. 

This replacing of the disc was at least an hour’s work. It 
was past twelve when all preparations ^were finished. Barbi- 
cane took fresh observations on the inclination of the pro- 
jectile, but to his annoyance it had not turned over suffi- 
ciently for its fall ; it seemed to take a curve parallel to the 
lunar disc. The orb of night shone splendidly into space, 
while opposite, the orb of day blazed with fire. 

Their situation began to make them uneasy. 

“Are we reaching our destination.^” said Nicholl. 

“Let us act as if we were about reaching it,” replied Bar- 
bicane. 

“You are sceptical,” retorted Michel Ardan. “We shall 
arrive, and that, too, quicker than we like.” 

This answer brought Barbicane back to his preparations, 
and he occupied himself with placing the contrivances in- 
tended to break their descent. We may remember the scene 
of the meeting held at Tampa Town, in Florida, when Cap- 


ROUND THE MOON 


738 

tain Nicholl came forward as Barbicane’s enemy and Michel 
Ardan’s adversary. To Captain NicholPs maintaining that 
the projectile would smash like glass, Michel replied that he 
would break their fall by means of rockets properly placed. 

Thus, powerful fireworks, taking their starting-point 
from the base and bursting outside, could, by producing a 
recoil, check to a certain degree the projectile’s speed. These 
rockets were to burn in space, it is true ; but oxygen would 
not fail them, for they could supply themselves with it, like 
the lunar volcanoes, the burning of which has never yet been 
stopped by the want of atmosphere round the moon. 

Barbicane had , accordingly supplied himself with these 
fireworks, enclosed in little steel guns, which could be screwed 
on to the base of the projectile. Inside, these guns were 
flush with the bottom; outside, they protruded about eigh- 
teen inches. There were twenty of them. An opening left 
in the disc allowed them to light the match with which each 
was provided. All the effect was felt outside. The burning 
mixture had been already rammed into each gun. They had, 
then, nothing to do but to raise the metallic buffers fixed 
in the base, and replace them by the guns, which fitted 
closely in their places. 

This new work was finished about three o’clock, and after 
taking all these precautions there remained but to wait. 
But the projectile was perceptibly nearing the moon, and 
evidently succumbed to her influence to a certain degree; 
though its own velocity also drew it in an oblique direction. 
From these conflicting influences resulted a line which might 
become a tangent. But it was certain that the projectile 
would not fall directly on the moon; for its lower part, by 
reason of its weight, ought to be turned toward her. 

Barbicane’s uneasiness increased as he saw his projectile 
resist the influence of gravitation. The Unknown was open- 
ing before him, the Unknown in interplanetary space. The 
man of science thought he had foreseen the only three hy- 
potheses possible — the return to the earth, the return to 
the moon, or stagnation on the neutral line; and here a 
fourth hypothesis, big with all the terrors of the Infinite, 
surged up inopportunely. To face it without flinching, one 


ROUND THE MOON 


739 


must be a resolute savant like Barbicane, a phlegmatic being 
like Nicholl, or an audacious adventurer like Michel Ardan. 

Conversation was started upon this subject. Other men 
would have considered the question from a practical point 
of view ; they would have asked themselves whither their pro- 
jectile carriage was carrying them. Not so with these; they 
sought for the cause which produced this effect. 

“So we have become diverted from our route,” said 
Michel; “but why.?^” 

“I very much fear,” answered Nicholl, “that, in spite 
of all precautions taken, the Columbiad was not fairly 
pointed. An error, however small, would be enough to throw 
us out of the moon’s attraction.” 

“Then they must have aimed badly .?” asked Michel. 

“I do not think so,” replied Barbicane. “The perpen- 
dicularity of the gun was exact, its direction to the zenith 
of the spot incontestible ; and the moon passing to the zenith 
of the spot, we ought to reach it at the full. There is an- 
other reason, but it escapes me.” 

“Are we not arriving too late.^” asked Nicholl. 

“Too late.^” said Barbicane. 

“Yes,” continued Nicholl. “The Cambridge Observa- 
tory’s note says that the transit ought to be accomplished 
in ninety-seven hours thirteen minutes and twenty seconds;, 
which means to say, that sooner the moon will not be at the 
point indicated, and that later it will have passed it.” 

“True,” replied Barbicane. “But we started the 1st of 
December, at thirteen minutes and twenty-five seconds to 
eleven at night; and we ought to arrive on the 5th at mid- 
night, at the exact moment when the moon would be full; 
and we are now at the 5th of December. It is now half -past 
three in the evening; half-past eight ought to see us at the 
end of our journey. Why do we not arrive 

“Might it not be an excess of speed.?” answered Nicholl; 
“for we know now that its initial velocity was greater than 
they supposed.” 

“No! a hundred times, no!” replied Barbicane. “An ex- 
cess of speed, if the direction of the projectile had been 
right, would not have prevented us reaching the moon. No, 


74)0 ROUND THE MOON 

there has been a deviation. We have been turned out of our 
course.” 

“By whom.^ by what.?” asked Nicholl. 

“I cannot say,” replied Barbicane. 

“Very well, then, Barbicane,” said Michel, “do you wish 
to know my opinion on the subject of finding out this 
deviation .?” 

“Speak.” 

“I would not give half a dollar to know it. That we have 
deviated is a fact. Where we are going to matters little ; we 
shall soon see. Since we are being borne along in space we 
shall end by falling into some center of attraction or other.” 

Michel Ardan’s indifference did not content Barbicane. 
Not that he was uneasy about the future, but he wanted to 
know at any cost why his projectile had deviated. 

But the projectile continued its course sideways to the 
moon, and with it the mass of things thrown out. Barbicane 
could even prove, by the elevations which served as land- 
marks upon the moon, which was only two thousand leagues 
distant, that its speed was becoming uniform — fresh proof 
that there was no fall. Its impulsive force still prevailed over 
the lunar attraction, but the projectile’s course was certainly 
bringing it nearer to the moon^ and they might hope that 
at a nearer point the weight, predominating, would cause a 
decided fall. 

The three friends, having nothing better to do, continued 
their observations; but they could not yet determine the 
topographical position of the satellite ; every relief was 
leveled under the reflection of the solar rays. 

They watched thus through the side windows until eight 
o’clock at night. The moon had then grown so large in their 
eyes that it filled half of the firmament. The sun on one side, 
and the orb of night on the other, flooded the projectile 
with light. 

At that moment Barbicane thought he could estimate the 
distance which separated them from their aim at no more 
than 700 leagues. The speed of the projectile seemed to him 
to be more than SOO yards, or about 170 leagues a second. 
Under the centripetal force, the base of the projectile 


ROUND THE MOON 


741 


tended toward the moon ; but the centrifugal still prevailed . 
and it was probable that its rectilineal course would be 
changed to a curve of some sort, the nature of which they 
could not at present determine. 

Barbicane was still seeking the solution of his insoluble 
problem. Hours passed without any result. The projectile 
was evidently nearing the moon, but it was also evident that 
it would never reach her. As to the nearest distance at which 
it would pass her, that must be the result of the two forces, 
attraction and repulsion, affecting its motion. 

“I ask but one thing,” said Michel; “that we may pass 
near enough to penetrate her secrets.” 

“Cursed be the thing that has caused our projectile tc 
deviate from its course,” cried Nicholl. 

And, as if a light had suddenly broken in upon his mind, 
Barbicane answered, “Then cursed be the meteor which 
crossed our path.” 

“What.?” said Michel Ardan. 

“What do you mean.?” exclaimed Nicholl. 

“I mean,” said Barbicane in a decided tone, “I mean that 
our deviation is owing solely to our meeting with this erring 
body.” 

“But it did not even brush us as it passed,” said Michel. 

“What does that matter.? Its mass, compared to that of 
our projectile, was enormous, and its attraction was enough 
to influence our course.” 

“So little.?” cried Nicholl. 

“Yes, Nicholl; but however little it might be,” replied 
Barbicane, “in a distance of 84,000 leagues, it wanted no 
more to make us miss the moon.” 


CHAPTER X 

THE OBSERVERS OF THE MOON 

Barbicane had evidently hit upon the only plausible rea- 
son of this deviation. However slight it might have been, it 
had sufficed to modify the course of the projectile. It was a 


742 


ROUND THE MOON 


fatality. The bold attempt had miscarried by a fortuitous 
circumstance; and unless by some exceptional event, they 
could now never reach the moon’s disc. 

Would they pass near enough to be able to solve certain 
physical and geological questions until then insoluble.? This 
was the question, and the only one, which occupied the 
minds of these bold travelers. As to the fate in store for 
themselves, they did not even dream of it. 

But what would become of them amid these infinite soli- 
tudes, these who would soon want air.? A few more days, and 
they would fall stifled in this wandering projectile. But 
some days to these intrepid fellows was a century ; and they 
devoted all their time to observe that moon which they no 
longer hoped to reach. 

The distance which then separated the projectile from 
the satellite was estimated at about two hundred leagues. 
Under these conditions, as regards the visibility of the de- 
tails of the disc, the travelers were farther from the moon 
than are the inhabitants of the earth with their powerful 
telescopes. 

Indeed, we know that the instrument mounted by Lord 
Rosse at Parsonstown, which magnifies 6,500 times, brings 
the moon to within an apparent distance of sixteen leagues. 
And more than that, with the powerful one set up at Long’s 
Peak, the orb of night, magnified 48,000 times, is brought 
to within less than two leagues, and objects having a diam- 
eter of thirty feet are seen very distinctly. So that, at this 
distance, the topographical details of the moon, observed 
without glasses, could not be determined with precision. The 
eye caught the vast outline of those immense depressions in- 
appropriately called ‘‘seas,” but they could not recognize 
their nature. The prominence of the mountains disappeared 
under the splendid irradiation produced by the reflection 
of the solar rays. The eye, dazzled as if it was leaning over 
a bath of molten silver, turned from it involuntarily ; but the 
oblong form of the orb was quite clear. It appeared like a 
gigantic egg, with the small end turned toward the earth. 
Indeed the moon, liquid and pliable in the first days of its 
formation, was originally a perfect sphere; but, being soon 


ROUND THE MOON 


743 


drawn within the attraction of the earth, it became elongated 
under the influence of gravitation. In becoming a satellite, 
she lost her native purity of form ; her center of gravity was 
in advance of the center of her figure; and from this fact 
some savants draw the conclusion that the air and water had 
taken refuge on the opposite surface of the moon, which is 
never seen from the earth. This alteration in the primitive 
form of the satellite was only perceptible for a few moments. 
The distance of the projectile from the moon diminished 
very rapidly under its speed, though that was much less 
than its initial velocity — but eight or nine times greater 
than that which propels our express trains. The oblique 
course of the projectile, from its very obliquity, gave Michel 
Ardan some hopes of striking the lunar disc at some point 
or other. He could not think that they would never reach 
it. No! he could not believe it; and this opinion he often 
repeated. But Barbicane, who was a better judge, always 
answered him with merciless logic. 

‘‘No, Michel, no! We can only reach the moon by a fall, 
and we are not falling. The centripetal force keeps us under 
the moon’s influence, but the centrifugal force draws us 
irresistibly away from it.” 

This was said in a tone which quenched Michel Ardan’s 
last hope. 

The portion of the moon which the projectile was nearing 
was the northern hemisphere, that which the selenographic 
maps place below; for these maps are generally drawn after 
the outline given by the glasses, and we know that they 
reverse the objects. Such was the Mappa Selenographica 
of Boeer and INIoedler which Barbicane consulted. This 
northern hemisphere presented vast plains, dotted with iso- 
lated mountains. 

At midnight the moon was full. At that precise moment 
the travelers should have alighted upon it, if the mischie- 
vous meteor had not diverted their course. The orb was ex- 
actly in the condition determined by the Cambridge Ob- 
servatory. It was mathematically at its perigee, and at the 
zenith of the twenty-eighth parallel. An observer placed at 
the bottom of the enormous Columbiad, pointed perpendicu- 


ROUND THE MOON 


744 

larly to the horizon, would have framed the moon in the 
mouth of the gun. A straight line drawn through the axis of 
the piece would have passed through the center of the orb 
of night. It is needless to say, that during the night of the 
5th-6th of December, the travelers took not an instant’s 
rest. Could they close their eyes when so near this new 
world No! All their feelings were concentrated in one single 
thought: — See! Representatives of the earth, of humanity, 
past and present, all centered in them! It is through their 
eyes that the human race look at these lunar regions, and 
penetrate the secrets of their satellite! A strange emotion 
filled their hearts as they went from one window to the 
other. Their observations, reproduced by Barbicane, were 
rigidly determined. To take them, they had glasses ; to cor- 
rect them, maps. 

As regards the optical instruments at their disposal, they 
had excellent marine glasses specially constructed for this 
journey. They possessed magnifying powers of 100. They 
would thus have brought the moon to within a distance (ap- 
parent) of less than 2,000 leagues from the earth. But then, 
at a distance which for three hours in the morning did not 
exceed sixty-five miles, and in a medium free from all at- 
mospheric disturbances, these instruments could reduce the 
lunar surface to within less than 1,500 yards! 


CHAPTER XI 

FANCY AND REALITY 

H AVE you ever seen the moon.?” asked a professor, ironi- 
cally,. of one of his pupils. 

‘‘No, sir!” replied the pupil, still more ironically, “but 
I must say I have heard it spoken of.” 

In one sense, the pupil’s witty answer might be given by 
a large majority of sublunary beings. How many people 
have heard speak of the moon who have never seen it — at 
least through a glass or a telescope ! How many have never 
examined the map of their satellite! 


ROUND THE MOON 


745 


In looking at a selenographic map, one peculiarity strikes 
us. Contrary to the arrangement followed for that of the 
Earth and Mars, the continents occupy more particularly 
the southern hemisphere of the lunar globe. These conti- 
nents do not show such decided, clear, and regular boundary 
lines as South America, Africa, and the Indian peninsula. 
Their angular, capricious, and deeply indented coasts are 
rich in gulfs and peninsulas. They remind one of the con- 
fusion in the islands of the Sound, where the land is exces- 
sively indented. If navigation ever existed on the surface 
of the moon, it must have been wonderfully difficult and 
dangerous ; and we may well pity the Selenite sailors and 
hydrographers ; the former, when they came upon these 
perilous coasts, the latter when they took the soundings of 
its stormy banks. 

We may also notice that, on the lunar sphere, the south 
pole is much more continental than the north pole. On the 
latter, there is but one slight strip of land separated from 
other continents by vast seas. Toward the south, continents 
clothe almost the whole of the hemisphere. It is even possible 
that the Selenites have already planted the flag on one of 
their poles, while Franklin, Ross, Kane, Dumont, d’Urville, 
and Lambert have never yet been able to attain that un- 
known point of the terrestrial globe. 

As to islands, they are numerous on the surface of the 
moon. Nearly all oblong or circular, and as if traced with 
the compass, they seem to form one vast archipelago, equal 
to that charming group lying between Greece and Asia 
Minor, and which mythology in ancient times adorned with 
most graceful legends. Involuntarily the names of Naxos, 
Tenedos, and Carpathos, rise before the mind, and we seek 
vainly for Ulysses’ vessel or the “clipper” of the Argonauts. 
So at least it was in Michel Ar dan’s eyes. To him it was a 
Grecian archipelago that he saw on the map. To the eyes of 
his matter-of-fact companions, the aspect of these coasts 
recalled rather the parceled-out land of New Brunswick 
and Nova Scotia, and where the Frenchman discovered 
traces of the heroes of fable, these Americans were marking 


ROUND THE MOON 


746 

the most favorable points for the establishment of stores in 
the interests of lunar commerce and industry. 

After wandering over these vast continents, the eye is 
attracted by still greater seas. Not only their ’ formation, 
but their situation and aspect remind one of the terrestrial 
oceans ; but again, as on earth, these seas occup}’^ the greater 
portion of the globe. But in point of fact, these are not 
liquid spaces, but plains, the nature of which the travelers 
hoped soon to determine. Astronomers, we must allow, have 
graced these pretended seas with at least odd names, which 
science has respected up to the present time. Michel Ardan 
was right when he compared this map to a ‘‘Tendre card,” 
got up by a Scudary or a Cyrano de Bergerac. “Only,” 
said he, “it is no longer the sentimental card of the seven- 
teenth century, it is the card of life, very neatly divided 
into two parts, one feminine, the other masculine; the right 
hemisphere for woman, the left for man.” 

In speaking thus, Michel made his prosaic companions 
shrug their shoulders. Barbicane and Nicholl looked upon 
the lunar map from a very different point of view to that of 
their fantastic friend. Nevertheless, their fantastic friend 
was a little in the right. Judge for yourselves. 

In the left hemisphere stretches the “Sea of Clouds,” 
where human reason is so often shipwrecked. Not far off lies 
the “Sea of Rains,” fed by all the fever of existence. Near 
this is the “Sea of Storms,” where man is ever fighting 
against his passions, which too often gain the victory. Then, 
worn out by deceit, treasons, infidelity, and the whole body 
of terrestrial misery, what does he find at the end of his 
career that vast “Sea of Humors,” barely softened by some 
drops of the waters from the “Gulf of Dew!” Clouds, rain, 
storms, and humors — does the life of man contain aught 
but these and is it not summed up in these four words.? 

The right hemisphere, “dedicated to the ladies,” encloses 
smaller seas, whose significant names contain every incident 
of a feminine existence. There is the “Sea of Serenity,” over 
which the young girl bends; “The Lake of Dreams,” re- 
flecting a joyous future; “The Sea of Nectar,” with its 
waves of tenderness and breezes of love ; “The Sea of Fruit- 


ROUND THE MOON 


747 


fulness;” “The Sea of Crises;” then the “Sea of Vapors,” 
whose dimensions are perhaps a little too confined; and 
lastly, that vast “Sea of Tranquillity,” in which every false 
passion, every useless dream, every unsatisfied desire is at 
length absorbed, and whose waves emerge peacefully into 
the “Lake of Death!” 

What a strange succession of names! What a singular 
division of the moon’s two hemispheres, joined to one an- 
other like man and woman, and forming that sphere of life 
carried into space! And was not the fantastic Michel right 
in thus interpreting the fancies of the ancient astronomers? 
But while his imagination thus roved over “the seas,” his 
grave companions were considering things more geographi- 
cally. They were learning this new world by heart. They were 
measuring angles and diameters. 


CHAPTER XII 

OROGRAPHIC DETAILS 

The course taken by the projectile, as we have before re- 
marked, was bearing it toward the moon’s northern hem- 
isphere. The travelers were far from the central point which 
they would have struck, had their course not been subject 
to an irremediable deviation. It was past midnight; and 
Barbicane then estimated the distance at seven hundred and 
fifty miles, which was a little greater than the length of the 
lunar radius, and which w^ould diminish as it advanced 
nearer to the North Pole. The projectile was then not at 
the altitude of the equator; but across the tenth parallel, 
and from that latitude, carefully taken on the map to the 
pole, Barbicane and his two companions were able to observe 
the moon under the most favorable conditions. Indeed, by 
means of glasses, the above-named distance was reduced to 
little more than fourteen miles. The telescope of the Rocky 
Mountains brought the moon much nearer; but the ter- 
restrial atmosphere singularly lessened its power. Thus 
Barbicane, posted in his projectile, with the glasses to his 


ROUND THE MOON 


748 

eyes, could seize upon details which were almost impercept- 
ible to earthly observers. 

“My friends,” said the president, in a serious voice, “I 
do not know whither we are going ; I do not know if we shall 
ever see the terrestrial globe again. Nevertheless, let us 
proceed as if our work would one day be useful to our 
fellow-men. Let us keep our minds free from every other 
consideration. We are astronomers; and this projectile is a 
room in the Cambridge University, carried into space. Let 
us make our observations !” 

This said, work was begun with great exactness ; and they 
faithfully reproduced the different aspects of the moon, at 
the different distances which the projectile reached. 

At the time that the projectile was as high as the tenth 
parallel, north latitude, it seemed rigidly to follow the 
twentieth degree, east longitude. We must here make one 
important remark with regard to the map by which they 
were taking observations. In the selenographical maps 
where, on account of the reversing of the objects by the 
glasses, the south is above and the north below, it would 
seem natural that, on account of that inversion, the east 
should be to the left hand, and the west to the right. But 
it is not so. If the map were turned upside dovui, showing 
the moon as we see her, the east would be to the left, and 
the west to the right, contrary to that which exists on ter- 
restrial maps. The following is the reason of this anomaly. 
Observers in the northern hemisphere (say in Europe) see 
the moon in the south — according to them. When they take 
observations, they turn their backs to the north, the reverse 
position to that which they occupy when they study a ter- 
restrial map. As they turn their backs to the north, the east 
is on their left, and the west to their right. To observers in 
the southern hemisphere (Patagonia for example), the 
moon’s west would be quite to their left, and the east to their 
right, as the south is behind them. Such is the reason of the 
apparent reversing of these two cardinal points, and we 
must bear it in mind in order to be able to follow President 
Barbicane’s observations. 

With the help of Bceer and Moedler’s Mappa Selena- 


ROUND THE MOON 


749 


graphica, the travelers were able at once to recognize that 
portion of the disc enclosed within the field of their glasses. 

‘‘What are we looking at, at this moment.?” asked 
Michel. 

“At the northern part of the ‘Sea of Clouds,’ ” answered 
Barbicane. “We are too far off to recognize its nature. Are 
these plains composed of arid sand, as the first astronomer 
maintained? Or are they nothing but immense forests, ac- 
cording to M. Warren de la Rue’s opinion, who gives the 
moon an atmosphere, though a very low and a very dense 
one? That we shall know by and by. We must affirm noth- 
ing until we are in a position to do so.” 

This “Sea of Clouds” is rather doubtfully marked out 
upon the maps. It is supposed that these vast plains are 
strewn with blocks of lava from the neighboring volcanoes 
on its right, Ptolemy, Purbach, Arzachel. But the projectile 
was advancing, and sensibly nearing it. Soon there appeared 
the heights which bound this sea at this northern limit. Be- 
fore them rose a mountain radiant with beauty, the top of 
which seemed lost in an eruption of solar rays. 

“That is — ?” asked Michel. 

“Copernicus,” replied Barbicane. 

“Let us see Copernicus.” 

This mount, situated in 9° north latitude and 20° east 
longitude, rose to a height of 10,600 feet above the sur- 
face of the moon. It is quite visible from the earth; and 
astronomers can study it with ease, particularly during the 
phase between the last quarter and the new moon, because 
then the shadows are thrown lengthways from east to west, 
allowing them to measure the heights. 

This Copernicus forms the most important of the radiat- 
ing system, situated in the southern hemisphere, according 
to Tycho Brahe. It rises isolated like a gigantic lighthouse 
on that portion of the “Sea of Clouds,” which is bounded by 
the “Sea of Tempests,” thus lighting by its splendid rays 
two oceans at a time. It was a sight without an equal, those 
long luminous trains, so dazzling in the full moon, and 
which, passing the boundary chain on the north, extends to 
the “Sea of Rains.” At one o’clock of the terrestrial morn- 


750 


ROUND THE MOON 


ing, the projectile, like a balloon borne into space, over^ 
looked the top of this superb mount. Barbicane could 
recognize perfectly its chief features. Copernicus is com- 
prised in the series of ringed mountains of the first order, 
in the division of great circles. Like Kepler and Aristarchus, 
which overlook the “Ocean of Tempests,” sometimes it ap- 
peared like a brilliant point through the cloudy light, and 
was taken for a volcano in activity. But it is only an extinct 
one — ^like all on that side of the moon. Its circumference 
showed a diameter of about twenty-two leagues. The glasses 
discovered traces of stratification produced by successive 
eruptions, and the neighborhood was strewn with volcanic 
remains which still choked some of the craters. 

“There exist,” said Barbicane, “several kinds of circles 
on the surface of the moon, and it is easy to see that Coper- 
nicus belongs to the radiating class. If we were nearer, we 
should see the cones bristling on the inside, which in former 
times were so many fiery mouths. A curious arrangement, 
and one without an exception on the lunar disc, is that the 
interior surface of these circles is the reverse of the exterior, 
and contrary to the form taken by terrestrial craters. It 
follows, then, that the general curve of the bottom of these 
circles gives a sphere of a smaller diameter than that of 
the moon.” 

“And why this peculiar disposition.^” asked Nicholl. 

“We do not know,” replied Barbicane. 

“What splendid radiation !” said Michel. “One could 
hardly see a finer spectacle, I think.” 

“What would you say, then,” replied Barbicane, “if 
chance should bear us toward the southern hemisphere.^” 

“Well, I should say that it was still more beautiful,” re- 
torted Michel Ardan. 

At this moment the projectile hung perpendicularly over 
the circle. The circumference of Copernicus formed almost 
a perfect circle, and its steep escarpments were clearly de- 
fined. They could even distinguish a second ringed enclo- 
sure. Around spread a grayish plain, of a wild aspect, on 
which every relief was marked in yellow. At the bottom of 
the circle, as if enclosed in a jewel case, sparkled for one 


ROUND THE MOON 


751 

instant two or three eruptive cones, like enormous dazzling 
gems. Toward the north the escarpments were lowered by a 
depression which would probably have given access to the 
interior of the crater. 

In passing over the surrounding plains, Barbicane noticed 
a great number of less important mountains; and among 
others a little ringed one called Guy Lussac, the breadth 
of which measured tw^elve miles. 

Toward the south, the plain was very flat, without one 
elevation, without one projection. Toward the north, on the 
contrary, till where it was bounded by the “Sea of Storms,” 
it resembled a liquid surface agitated by a storm, of which 
the hills and hollows formed a succession of waves suddenly 
congealed. Over the whole of this, and in all directions, lay 
the luminous lines,, all converging to the summit of 
Copernicus. 

The travelers discussed the origin of these strange rays ; 
but they could not determine their nature any more than 
terrestrial observers. 

“But why,” said Nicholl, “should not these rays be simply 
spurs of mountains which reflect more vividly the light of 
the sun ?” 

“No,” replied Barbicane; “if it was so, under certain 
conditions of the moon, these ridges would cast shadows, 
and they do not cast any. 

And indeed, these rays only appeared when the orb of 
day was in opposition to the moon, and disappeared as soon 
as its rays became oblique. 

“But how have they endeavored to explain these lines of 
light?” asked Michel; “for I cannot believe that savants 
would ever be stranded for want of an explanation.” 

“Yes,” replied Barbicane; “Herschel has put forward an 
opinion, but he did not venture to affirm it.” 

“Never mind. What was the opinion?” 

“He thought that these rays might be streams of cooled 
lava which shone when the sun beat straight upon them. It 
may be so; but nothing can be less certain. Besides, if we 
pass nearer to Tycho, we shall be in a better position to 
find out the cause of this radiation.” 


ROUND THE MOON 


752 

‘‘Do you know, my friends, what that plain, seen from 
the height we are at, resembles?” said Michel. 

“No,” replied Nicholl. 

“Very well ; with all those pieces of lava lengthened like 
rockets, it resembles an immense game of spelikans thrown 
pellmell. There wants but the hook to pull them out one 
by one.” 

“Do be serious,” said Barbicane. 

“Well, let us be serious,” replied Michel quietly; “and 
instead of spelikans, let us put bones. This plain, would 
then be nothing but an immense cemetery, on which would 
repose the mortal remains of thousands of extinct genera- 
tions. Do you prefer that high-flown comparison?” 

“One is as good as the other,” retorted Barbicane. 

“My word, you are difficult to please,” answered Michel. 

“My worthy friend,” continued the matter-of-fact Barbi- 
cane, “it matters but little what it resembles, when we do 
not know what it is.” 

“Well answered,” exclaimed Michel. “That will teach me 
to reason with savants.” 

But the projectile continued to advance with almost uni- 
form speed around the lunar disc. The travelers, we may 
easily imagine, did not dream of taking a moment’s rest. 
Every minute changed the landscape which fled from be- 
neath their gaze. About half-past one o’clock in the morn- 
ing, they caught a glimpse of the tops of another mountain. 
Barbicane, consulting his map, recognized Eratosthenes. 

It was a ringed mountain nine thousand feet high, and 
one of those circles so numerous on this satellite. With re- 
gard to this, Barbicane related Kepler’s singular opinion on 
the formation of circles. According to that celebrated mathe- 
matician, these crater-like cavities had been dug by the hand 
of man. 

“For what purpose?” asked Nicholl. 

“For a very natural one,” replied Barbicane. “The Sele- 
nites might have undertaken these immense works and dug 
these enormous holes for a refuge and shield from the solar 
rays which beat upon them during fifteen consecutive days.” 

“The Selenites are not fools,” said Michel. 


ROUND THE MOON 


753 

“A singular idea,” replied Nicholl; “but it is probable 
that Kepler did not know the true dimensions of these 
circles, for the digging of them would have been the work 
of giants quite impossible for the Selenites.” 

“Why? if weight on the moon’s surface is six times less 
than on the earth?” said Michel. 

“But if the Selenites are six times smaller?” retorted 
Nicholl. 

“And if there are no Selenites?” added Barbicane. 

This put an end to the discussion. 

Soon Eratosthenes disappeared under the horizon with- 
out the projectile being sufficiently near to allow close 
observation. This mountain separated the Apennines from 
the Carpathians. In the lunar orography they have dis- 
cerned some chains of mountains, which are chiefly distrib- 
uted over the northern hemisphere. Some, however, occupy 
certain portions of the southern hemisphere also. 

About two o’clock in the morning Barbicane found that 
they were above the twentieth lunar parallel. The distance 
of the projectile from the moon was not more than six 
hundred miles. Barbicane, now perceiving that the projec- 
tile was steadily approaching the lunar disc, did not despair ; 
if not of reaching her, at least of discovering the secrets 
of her configuration. 


CHAPTER XIII 

LUNAR LANDSCAPES 

At half-past two in the morning, the projectile was 
over the thirteenth lunar parallel and at the effective dis- 
tance of five hundred miles, reduced by the glasses to five. 
It still seemed impossible, however, that it could ever touch 
any part of the disc. Its motive speed, comparatively so 
moderate, was inexplicable to President Barbicane. At that 
distance from the moon it must have been considerable, to 
enable it to bear up against her attraction. Here was a 
phenomenon the cause of which escaped them again. Be- 


754 


ROUND THE MOON 


sides, time failed them to investigate the cause. All lunar 
relief was defiling under the eyes of the travelers, and they 
would not lose a single detail. 

Under the glasses the disc appeared at the distance of 
five miles. What would an aeronaut, borne to this distance 
from the earth, distinguish on its surface.^ We cannot say, 
since the greatest ascension has not been more than 25,000 
feet. 

This, however, is an exact description of what Barbicane 
and his companions saw at this height. Large patches of 
different colors appeared on the disc. Selenographers are 
not agreed upon the nature of these colors. There are sev- 
eral, and rather vividly marked. Julius Schmidt pretends 
that, if the terrestrial oceans were dried up, a Selenite ob- 
server could not distinguish on the globe a greater diversity 
of shades between the oceans and the continental plains 
than those on the moon present to a terrestrial observer. 
According to him, the color common to the vast plains known 
by the name of “seas” is a dark gray mixed with green and 
brown. Some of the large craters present the same appear- 
ance. Barbicane knew this opinion of the German selen- 
ographer, an opinion shared by Boeer and Moedler. Observa- 
tion has proved that right was on their side, and not on that 
of some astronomers who admit the existence of only gray 
on the moon’s surface. In some parts green was very dis- 
tinct, such as springs, according to Julius Schmidt, from 
the seas of “Serenity and Humors.” Barbicane also noticed 
large craters, without any interior cones, which shed a blu- 
ish tint similar to the reflection of a sheet of steel freshly 
polished. These colors belonged really to the lunar disc, 
and did not result, as some astronomers say, either from the 
imperfection in the objective of the glasses or from the in- 
terposition of the terrestrial atmosphere. 

Not a doubt existed in Barbicane’s mind with regard to 
it, as he observed it through space, and so could not com- 
mit any optical error. He considered the establishment of 
this fact as an acquisition to science. Now, were these shades 
of green, belonging to tropical vegetation, kept up by a 
low dense atmosphere He could not yet say. 


ROUND THE MOON 755 

Farther on, he noticed a reddish tint, quite defined. The 
same shade had before been observed at the bottom of an 
isolated enclosure, known by the name of Lichtenburg’s 
circle, which is situated near the Hercynian mountains, on 
the borders of the moon : but they could not tell the nature 
of it. 

They were not more fortunate with regard to another 
peculiarity of the disc, for they could not decide upon the 
cause of it. 

Michel Ardan was watching near the president, when he 
noticed long white lines, vividly lighted up by the direct 
rays of the sun. It was a succession of luminous furrows, 
very different from the radiation of Copernicus not long be- 
fore ; they ran parallel with each other. 

Michel, with his usual readiness, hastened to exclaim: 

“Look there! cultivated fields!” 

“Cultivated fields !” replied Nicholl, shrugging his 
shoulders. 

“Plowed, at all events,” retorted Michel Ardan; “but 
what laborers those Selenites must be, and what giant oxen 
they must harness to their plow to cut such furrows!” 

“They are not furrows,” said Barbicane ; “they are rifts.’^ 

“Rifts stuff!” replied Michel mildly; “but what do you 
mean by Tifts’ in the scientific world 

Barbicane immediately enlightened his companion as to 
what he knew about lunar rifts. He knew that they were a 
kind of furrow found on every part of the disc which was 
not mountainous ; that these furrows, generally isolated, 
measured from 400 to 500 leagues in length; that their 
breadth varied from 1,000 to 1,500 yards, and that their 
borders were strictly parallel ; but he knew nothing more 
either of their formation or their nature. 

Barbicane, through his glasses, observed these rifts with 
great attention. He noticed that their borders were formed 
of steep declivities; they were long parallel ramparts, and 
with some small amount of imagination he might have ad- 
mitted the existence of long lines of fortifications, raised 
by Selenite engineers. Of these different rifts some were per- 
fectly straight, as if cut by a line; others were slightly 


756 


ROUND THE MOON 


curved, though still keeping their borders parallel; some 
crossed each other, some cut through craters; here they 
wound through ordinary cavities, such as Posidonius or 
Petavius; there they wound through the seas, such as the 
‘‘Sea of Serenity.” 

These natural accidents naturally excited the imagina- 
tions of these terrestrial astronomers. The first observations 
had not discovered these rifts. Neither Hevelius, Cassin, La 
Hire, nor Herschel seemed to have known them. It was 
Schroeter who in 1789 first drew attention to them. Others 
followed who studied them, as Pastorff, Gruithuysen, 
Boeer, and Moedler. At this time their number amounts to 
seventy; but, if they have been counted, their nature has 
not yet been determined; they are certainly not fortifica- 
tions, any more than they are the ancient beds of dried-up 
rivers ; for, on one side, the waters, so slight on the moon’s 
surface, could never have worn such drains for themselves; 
and, on the other, they often cross craters of great elevation. 

We must, however, allow that Michel Ardan had “an 
idea,” and that, without knowing it, he coincided in that re- 
spect with Julius Schmidt. 

“Why,” said he, “should not these unaccountable ap- 
pearances be simply phenomena of vegetation.?” 

“What do you mean.?” asked Barbicane quickly. 

“Do not excite yourself, my worthy president,” replied 
Michel ; “might it not be possible that the dark lines form- 
ing that bastion were rows of trees regularly placed.?” 

“You stick to your vegetation, then.?” said Barbicane. 

“I like,” retorted Michel Ardan, “to explain what you 
savants cannot explain; at least my hypothesis has the ad- 
vantage of indicating why these rifts disappear, or seem to 
disappear, at certain seasons.” 

“And for what reason.?” 

“For the reason that the trees become invisible when they 
lose their leaves, and visible when they regain them.” 

“Your explanation is ingenious, my dear companion,” re- 
plied Barbicane, “but inadmissible.” 

“Why.?” 

“Because, so to speak, there are no seasons on the moon’s 


ROUND THE MOON 757 

surface, and that, consequently, the phenomena of vegeta- 
tion of which you speak cannot occur.” 

Indeed, the slight obliquity of the lunar axis keeps the 
sun at an almost equal height in every latitude. Above the 
equatorial regions the radiant orb almost invariably occu- 
pies the zenith, and does not pass the limits of the horizon 
in the polar regions ; thus, according to each region, there 
reigns a perpetual winter, spring, summer, or autumn, as 
in the planet Jupiter, whose axis is but little inclined upon 
its orbit. 

What origin do they attribute to these rifts? That is a 
question difficult to solve. They are certainly anterior to the 
formation of craters and circles, for several have introduced 
themselves by breaking through their circular ramparts. 
Thus it may be that, contemporary with the later geological 
epochs, they are due to the expansion of natural forces. 

But the projectile had now attained the fortieth degree 
of lunar latitude, at a distance not exceeding 40 miles. 
Through the glasses objects appeared to be only four miles 
distant. 

At this point, under their feet, rose Mount Helicon, 
1,520 feet high, and round about the left rose moderate ele- 
vations, enclosing a small portion of the “Sea of Rains,” 
under the name of the Gulf of Iris. The terrestrial atmos- 
phere would have to be one hundred and seventy times more 
transparent than it is, to allow astronomers to make perfect 
observations on the moon’s surface ; but in the void in which 
the projectile floated no fluid interposed itself between the 
eye of the observer and the object observed. And more, 
Barbicane found himself carried to a greater distance than 
the most powerful telescopes had ever done before, either 
that of Lord Rosse or that of the Rocky Mountains. He was, 
therefore, under extremely favorable conditions for solving 
that great question of the habitability of the moon ; but the 
solution still escaped him ; he could distinguish nothing but 
desert beds, immense plains, and toward the north, arid 
mountains. Not a work betrayed the hand of man; not a 
ruin marked his course; not a group of animals was to be 
seen indicating life, even in an inferior degree. In no part 


758 


ROUND THE MOON 


was there life, in no part was there an appearance of vege- 
tation. Of the three kingdoms which share the terrestrial 
globe between them, one alone was represented on the lunar, 
and that the mineral. 

“Ah, indeed!” said Michel Ardan, a little out of counte- 
nance; “then you see no one.^” 

“No,” answered Nicholl; “up to this time not a man, not 
an animal, not a tree I After all, whether the atmosphere 
has taken refuge at the bottom of cavities, in the midst of 
the circles, or even on the opposite face of the moon, we can- 
not decide.” 

“Besides,” added Barbicane, “even to the most piercing 
eye a man cannot be distinguished farther than three and a 
half miles off ; so that, if there are any Selenites, they can 
see our projectile, but we cannot see them.” 

Toward four in the morning, at the height of the fiftieth 
parallel, the distance was reduced to 300 miles. To the left 
ran a line of mountains capriciously shaped, lying in the 
full light. To the right, on the contrary, lay a black hollow 
resembling a vast well, unfathomable and gloomy, drilled 
into the lunar soil. 

This hole was the “Black Lake”; it was Pluto, a deep 
circle which can be conveniently studied from the earth, 
between the last quarter and the new moon, when the 
shadows fall from west to east. 

This black color is rarely met with on the surface of 
the satellite. As yet it has only been recognized in the depths 
of the circle of Endymion, to the east of the “Cold Sea,” 
in the northern hemisphere, and at the bottom of Grimaldi’s 
circle, on the equator, toward the eastern border of the orb. 

Pluto is an annular mountain, situated in 51° north lati- 
tude, and 9° east longitude. Its circuit is forty-seven miles 
long and thirty-two broad. 

Barbicane regretted that they were not passing directly 
above this vast opening. There was an abyss to fathom, per- 
haps some mysterious phenomenon to surprise ; but the pro- 
jectile’s course could not be altered. They must rigidly sub- 
mit. They could not guide a balloon, still less a projectile, 
when once enclosed within its walls. Toward five in the morn- 


ROUND THE MOON 


759 


ing the northern limits of the “Sea of Rains” was at length 
passed. The mounts of Condamine and Fontenelle remained 
— one on the right, the other on the left. That part of the 
disc beginning with 60° was becoming quite mountainous. 
The glasses brought them to within two miles, less than that 
separating the summit of Mont Blanc from the level of the 
sea. The whole region was bristling with spikes and circles. 
Toward the 60° Philolaus stood predominant at a height of 
5,550 feet with its elliptical crater, and seen from this dis- 
tance, the disc showed a very fantastical appearance. Land- 
scapes were presented to the eye under very different condi- 
tions from those on the earth, and also very inferior to them. 

The moon having no atmosphere, the consequences aris- 
ing from the absence of this gaseous envelope have already 
been shown. No twilight on her surface; night following day 
and day following night with the suddenness of a lamp which 
is extinguished or lighted amid profound darkness — no tran- 
sition from cold to heat, the temperature falling in an in- 
stant from boiling point to the cold of space. 

Another consequence of this want of air is that absolute 
darkness reigns where the sun’s rays do not penetrate. 
That which on earth is called diffusion of light, that lumi- 
nous matter which the air holds in suspension, which creates 
the twilight and the daybreak, which produces the umbrce 
and penumbras^ and all the magic of cliiaro-oscwro, does not 
exist on the moon. Hence the harshness of contrasts, which 
only admit of two colors, black and white. If a Selenite 
were to shade his eyes from the sun’s rays, the sky would 
seem absolutely black, and the stars would shine to him as 
on the darkest night. Judge of the impression produced 
on Barbicane and his three friends by this strange scene! 
Their eyes were confused. They could no longer grasp the 
respective distances of the different plains. A lunar land- 
scape without the softening of the phenomena of chiaro- 
oscuro could not be rendered by an earthly landscape 
painter: it would be spots of ink on a white page — nothing 
more. 

This aspect was not altered even when the projectile, at 
the height of 80°, was only separated from the moon by a 


760 


ROUND THE MOON 


distance of fifty miles; nor even when, at five in the morn- 
ing, it passed at less than twenty-five miles from the 
mountain of Gioja, a distance reduced by the glasses to a 
quarter of a mile. It seemed as if the moon might be 
touched by the hand! It seemed impossible that, before 
long, the projectile would not strike her, if only at the 
north pole, the brilliant arch of which was so distinctly vis- 
ible on the black sky. 

INIichel Ardan wanted to open one of the scuttles and 
throw himself on to the moon’s surface! A yery useless 
attempt; for if the projectile could not attain any point 
whatever of the satellite, Michel, carried along by its 
motion, could not attain it either. 

At that moment, at six o’clock, the lunar pole appeared. 
The disc only presented to the travelers’ gaze one half bril- 
liantly lit up, while the other disappeared in the darkness. 
Suddenly the projectile passed the line of demarcation be- 
tween intense light and absolute darkness, and was plunged 
in profound night! 


CHAPTER XIV 

THE NIGHT OF THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-FOUR HOURS AND 
A HALF 

At the moment when this phenomenon took place so 
rapidly, the projectile was skirting the moon’s north pole 
at less than twenty-five miles distance. Some seconds had 
sufficed to plunge it into the absolute darkness of space. 
The transition was so sudden, without shade, without grada- 
tion of light, without attenuation of the luminous waves, 
that the orb seemed to have been extinguished by a power- 
ful blow. 

“Melted, disappeared !” Michel Ardan exclaimed, aghast. 
Indeed, there was neither reflection nor shadow. Noth- 
ing more was to be seen of that disc, formerly so dazzling. 
The darkness was complete, and j’endered even more so by 
the rays from the stars. It was “that blackness” in which 


ROUND T E MOON 


761 


the lunar nights are insteeped, which last three hundred 
and fifty-four hours and a half at each point of the disc, 
a long night resulting from the equality of the translatory 
and rotatory movements of the moon. The projectile, im- 
merged in the conical shadow of the satellite, experienced 
the action of the solar rays no more than any of its invisible 
points. 

In the interior the obscurity was complete. They could 
not see each other. Hence the necessity of dispelling the 
darkness. However desirous Bar bicane might be to hus- 
band the gas, the reserve of which was small, he was obliged 
to ask from it a fictitious light, an expensive brilliancy 
which the sun then refused. 

“Devil take the radiant orb !” exclaimed Michel Ardan, 
“which forces us to expend gas, instead of giving us his 
rays gratuitously.” 

“Do not let us accuse the sun,” said Nicholl, -^t is not 
his fault, but that of the moon, which has come and placed 
herself like a screen between us and it.” 

“It is the sun!” continued Michel. 

“It is the moon!” retorted Nicholl. 

An idle dispute, which Barbicane put an end to by say- 
ing: 

“My friends, it is neither the fault of the sun nor of the 
moon; it is the fault of the projectile, which, instead of 
rigidly following its course, has awkwardly missed it. To be 
more just, it is the fault of that unfortunate meteor which 
has so deplorably altered our first direction.” 

“Well,” replied Michel Ardan, “as the matter is settled, 
let us have breakfast. After a whole night of watching it 
is fair to build ourselves up a little.” 

This proposal meeting with no contradiction, Michel 
prepared the repast in a few minutes. But they ate for 
eating’s sake, they drank without toasts, without hurrahs. 
The bold travelers being borne away into gloomy space, 
without their accustomed cortege of rays, felt a vague un- 
easiness at their hearts. The “strange” shadow so dear 
to Victor Hugo’s pen bound them on all sides. But they 
talked over the interminable night of three hundred and 


762 


ROUND THE MOON 


fifty-four hours and a half, nearly fifteen days, which the 
law of physics has imposed on the inhabitants of the moon. 

Barbicane gave his friends some explanation of the 
causes and the consequences of this curious phenomenon. 

“Curious indeed,” said they; “for, if each hemisphere of 
the moon is deprived of solar light for fifteen days, that 
above which we now float does not even enjoy during its 
long night any view of the earth so beautifully lit up. In 
a word she has no moon (applying this designation to our 
globe) but on one side of her disc. Now if this were the 
case with the earth — if, for example, Europe never saw 
the moon, and she was only visible at the antipodes, imagine 
to yourself the astonishment of a European on arriving in 
Australia.” 

“They would make the voyage for nothing but to see 
the moon!” replied Michel. 

“Very well!” continued Barbicane, “that astonishment 
is reserved for the Selenites who inhabit the face of the 
moon opposite to the earth, a face which is ever invisible 
to our countrymen of the terrestrial globe.” 

“And which we should have seen,” added Nicholl, “if we 
had arrived here when the moon was new, that is to say 
fifteen days later.” 

“I will add, to make amends,” continued Barbicane, 
“that the inhabitants of the visible face are singularly fa- 
vored by nature, to the detriment of their brethren on the 
invisible face. The latter, as you see, have dark nights of 
354 hours, without one single ray to break the darkness. 
The other, on the contrary, when the sun which has given 
its light for fifteen days sinks below the horizon, see a splen- 
did orb rise on the opposite horizon. It is the earth, which 
is thirteen times greater than that diminutive moon that we 
know — ^the earth which developes itself at a diameter of 
two degrees, and which sheds a light thirteen times greater 
than that qualified by atmospheric strata — the earth which 
only disappears at the moment when the sun reappears in 
its turn!” 

“Nicely worded !” said Michel, “sliglitly academical per- 
haps.” 


ROUND THE MOON 


763 


‘‘It follows, then,” continued Barbicane, without knitting 
his brows, “that the visible face of the disc must be very 
agreeable to inhabit, since it always looks on either the sun 
when the moon is full, or on the earth when the moon is 
new.” 

“But,” said Nichpll, “that advantage must be well com- 
pensated by the insupportable heat which the light brings 
with it.” 

“The inconvenience, in that respect, is the same for the 
two faces, for the earth’s light is evidently deprived of 
heat. But the invisible face is still more searched by the 
heat than the visible face. I say that for yow, Nicholl, be- 
cause Michel will probably not understand.” 

“Thank you,” said Michel. 

“Indeed,” continued Barbicane, “when the invisible face 
receives at the same time light and heat from the sun, it is 
because the moon is new; that is to say, she is situated be- 
tween the sun and the earth. It follows, then, considering 
the position which she occupies in opposition when full, that 
she is nearer to the sun by twice her distance from the 
earth; and that distance may be estimated at the two-hun- 
dredth part of that which separates the sun from the earth, 
or in round numbers 400,000 miles. So that invisible face 
is so much nearer to the sun when she receives its rays.” 

“Quite right,” replied Nicholl. 

“On the contrary,” continued Barbicane. 

“One moment,” said Michel, interrupting his grave com- 
panion. 

“What do you want.^” 

“I ask to be allowed to continue the explanation.” 

“And why.?^” 

“To prove that I understand.” 

“Get along with you,” said Barbicane, smiling. 

“On the contrary,” said Michel, imitating the tone and 
gestures of the president, “on the contrary, when the visible 
face of the moon is lit by the sun, it is because the moon is 
full, that is to say, opposite the sun with regard to the 
-earth. The distance separating it from the radiant orb is 


764 


ROUND THE MOON 


then increased in round numbers to 400,000 miles, and the 
heat which she receives must be a little less.” 

“Very well said!” exclaimed Barbicane. “Do you know, 
Michel, that, for an amateur, you are intelligent.” 

“Yes,” replied Michel coolly, “we are all so on the Boule- 
vard des Italiens.” 

Barbicane gravely clasped the hand of his amiable com- 
panion, and continued to enumerate the advantages re- 
served for the inhabitants of the visible face. 

Among others, he mentioned eclipses of the sun, which 
only take place on this side of the lunar disc ; since, in order 
that they may take place, it is necessary for the moon to 
be in opposition. These eclipses, caused by the interposi- 
tion of the earth between the moon and the sun, can last 
two hours; during which time, by reason of the rays re- 
fracted by its atmosphere, the terrestrial globe can appear 
as nothing but a black point upon the sun. 

“So,” said Nicholl, “there is a hemisphere, that invisible 
hemisphere which is very ill supplied, very ill treated, by 
nature.” 

“Never mind,” replied Michel ; “if we ever become Selen- 
ites, we will inhabit the visible face. I like the light.” 

“Unless, by any chance,” answered Nicholl, “the atmos- 
phere should be condensed on the other side, as certain 
astronomers pretend.” 

“That would be a consideration,” said Michel. 

Breakfast over, the observers returned to their post. 
They tried to see through the darkened scuttles by extin- 
guishing all light in the projectile; but not a luminous 
spark made its way through the darkness. 

One inexplicable fact preoccupied Barbicane. Why, 
having passed within such a short distance of the moon — • 
about twenty-five miles only — why the projectile had not 
fallen.? If its speed had been enormous, he could have 
understood that the fall would not have taken place; but, 
with a relatively moderate speed, that resistance to the 
moon’s attraction could not be explained. Was the pro- 
jectile under some foreign influence.? Did some kind of 
body retain it in the ether.? It was quite evident that it 


ROUND THE MOON 


765 

could never reach any point of the moon. Whither was it 
going.? Was it going farther from, or nearing, the disc.? 
Was it being borne in that profound darkness through the 
infinity of space.? How could they learn, how calculate, in 
the midst of this night? All these questions made Barbi- 
cane uneasy, but he could not solve them. 

Certainly, the invisible orb was there, perhaps only some 
few miles off ; but neither he nor his companions could see 
it. If there was any noise on its surface, they could not 
hear it. Air, that medium of sound, was wanting to trans- 
mit the groanings of that moon which the Arabic legends 
call “a man already half granite, and still breathing.” 

One must allow that that was enough to aggravate the 
most patient observers. It was just that unknown hemi- 
sphere which was stealing from their sight. That face 
which fifteen days sooner, or fifteen days later, had been, 
or would be, splendidly illuminated by the solar rays, was 
then being lost in utter darkness. In fifteen days where 
would the projectile be? Who could say? Where would 
the chances of conflicting attractions have drawn it to? The 
disappointment of the travelers in the midst of this utter 
darkness may be imagined. All observation of the lunar 
disc was impossible. The constellations alone claimed all 
their attention ; and we must allow that the astronomers 
Faye, Charconac, and Secchi, never found themselves in 
circumstances so favorable for their observation. 

Indeed, nothing could equal the splendor of this starry 
world, bathed in limpid ether. Its diamonds set in the 
heavenly vault sparkled magnificently. The eye took in 
the firmament from the Southern Cross to the North Star, 
those two constellations which in 12,000 years, by reason 
of the succession of equinoxes, will resign their part of the 
polar stars, the one to Canopus in the southern hemisphere, 
the other to Wega in the northern. Imagination loses itself 
in this sublime Infinity, amid which the projectile was grav- 
itating, like a new star created by the hand of man. From 
a natural cause, these constellations shone with a soft luster; 
they did not twinkle, for there was no atmosphere which, 
by the intervention of its layers unequally dense and of 


ROUND THE MOON 


766 

different degrees of humidity, produces this scintillation. 
These stars were soft eyes, looking out into the dark night, 
amid the silence of absolute space. 

Long did the travelers stand mute, watching the constel- 
lated firmament, upon which the moon, like a vast screen, 
made an enormous black hole. But at length a painful 
sensation drew them from their watchings. This was an 
intense cold, which soon covered the inside of the glass of 
the scuttles with a thick coating of ice. The sun was no 
longer warming the projectile with its direct rays, and thus 
it was losing the heat stored up in its walls by degrees. This 
heat was rapidly evaporating into space by radiation, and 
a considerably lower temperature was the result. The hu- 
midity of the interior was changed into ice upon contact 
with the glass, preventing all observation. 

Nicholl consulted the thermometer, and saw that it had 
fallen to seventeen degrees (Centigrade) below zero.^ So 
that, in spite of the many reasons for economizing, Barbi- 
cane, after having begged light from the gas, was also 
obliged to beg for heat. The projectile’s low temperature 
was no longer endurable. Its tenants would have been frozen 
to death. 

‘Well!” observed Michel, “we cannot reasonably com- 
plain of the monotony of our journey! What variety we 
have had, at least in temperature. Now we are blinded with 
light and saturated with heat, like the Indians of the Pam- 
pas! now plunged into profound darkness, amid the cold, 
like the Esquimaux of the north pole. No, indeed! we 
have no right to complain; nature does wonders in our 
honor.” 

“But,” asked Nicholl, “what is the temperature out- 
side .^” 

“Exactly that of the planetary space,” replied Barbi- 
cane. 

“Then,” continued Michel Ardan, “would not this be 
the time to make the experiment which we dared not at- 
tempt when we were drowned in the sun’s rays.?^” 

“It is now or never,” replied Barbicane, “for we are in 

* 1° Fahrenheit. 


ROUND THE MOON 767 

a good position to verify the temperature of space, and see 
if Fourier or Pouillet’s calculations are exact.” 

“In any case it is cold,” said Michel. “See! the steam 
of the interior is condensing on the glasses of the scuttles. 
If the fall continues, the vapor of our breath will fall in 
snow around us.” 

“Let us prepare a thermometer,” said Barbicane. 

We may imagine that an ordinary thermometer would 
afford no result under the circumstances in which this in- 
strument was to be exposed. The mercury would have 
been frozen in its ball, as below 42° Fahrenheit below zero 
it is no longer liquid. But Barbicane had furnished him- 
self with a spirit thermometer on Waff er din’s system, which 
gives the minima of excessivly low temperatures. 

Before beginning the experiment, this instrument was 
compared with an ordinary one, and then Barbicane pre- 
pared to use it. 

“How shall we set about it.?” asked Nicholl. 

“Nothing is easier,” replied Michel Ardan, who was 
never at a loss. “We open the scuttle rapidly; throw out 
the instrument; it follows the projectile with exemplary 
docility; and a quarter of an hour after, draw it in.” 

“With the hand.?” asked Barbicane. 

“With the hand,” replied Michel. 

“Well, then, my friend, do not expose yourself,” an- 
swered Barbicane, “for the hand that you draw in again 
will be nothing but a stump frozen and deformed by the 
frightful cold.” 

“Really!” 

“You will feel as if you had had a terrible burn, like 
that of iron at a white heat; for whether the heat leaves 
our bodies briskly or enters briskly, it is exactly the same 
thing. Besides, I am not at all certain that the objects 
we have thrown out are still following us.” 

“Why not.?” asked Nicholl. 

“Because, if we are passing through an atmosphere of 
the slightest density, these objects will be retarded. Again, 
the darkness prevents our seeing if they still float around 


768 


ROUND THE MOON 


US. But in order not to expose ourselves to the loss of our 
thermometer, we will fasten it, and we can then more easily 
pull it back again.” 

Barbicane’s advice was followed. Through the scuttle 
rapidly opened, Nicholl threw out the instrument, which 
was held by a short cord, so that it might be more easily 
drawn up. The scuttle had not been opened more than a 
second, but that second had sufficed to let in a most intense 
cold. 

‘‘The devil !” exclaimed Michel Ardan, “it is cold enough 
to freeze a white bear.” 

Barbicane waited until half an hour had elapsed, which 
was more than time enough to allow the instrument to fall 
to the level of the surrounding temperature. Then it was 
rapidly pulled in. 

Barbicane calculated the quantity of spirits of wine over- 
flowed into the little vial soldered to the lower part of the 
instrument, and said: 

“A hundred and forty degrees Centigrade^ below zero!” 

M. Pouillet was right and Fourier wrong. That was 
the undoubted temperature of the starry space. Such is, 
perhaps, that of the lunar continents, when the orb of night 
has lost by radiation all the heat which fifteen days of sun 
have poured into her. 


CHAPTER XV 

HYPERBOLA OR PARABOLA 

Wb MAY, perhaps, be astonished to find Barbicane and 
his companions so little occupied with the future reserved 
for them in their metal prison which was bearing them 
through the infinity of space. Instead of asking where they 
were going, they passed their time making experiments, 
as if they had been quietly installed in their own study. 

We might answer that men so strong-minded were above 
such anxieties — that they did not trouble themselves about 
* 218 degrees Fahrenheit below zero. 


ROUND THE MOON 769 

such trifles — and that they had something else to do than 
to occupy their minds with the future. 

The truth was that they were not masters of their pro- 
jectile; they could neither check its course, nor alter its 
direction. 

A sailor can change the head of his ship as he pleases; 
an aeronaut can give a vertical motion to his ballon. They, 
on the contrary, had no power over their vehicle. Every 
maneuver was forbidden. Hence the inclination to let 
things alone, or as the sailors say, “let her run.” 

Where did they find themselves at this moment, at eight 
o’clock in the morning of the day called upon the earth the 
6th of December.^ Very certainly in the neighborhood of 
the moon, and even near enough for her to look to them 
like an enormous black screen upon the firmament. As to 
the distance which separated them, it was impossible to esti- 
mate it. The projectile, held by some unaccountable force, 
had been Avithin four miles of grazing the satellite’s north 
pole. 

But since entering the cone of shadow these last two 
hours, had the distance increased or diminished.? Every 
point of mark was wanting by which to estimate both the 
direction and the speed of the projectile. 

Perhaps it was rapidly leaving the disc, so that it would 
soon quit the pure shadow. Perhaps, again, on the other 
hand, it might be nearing it so much that in a short time 
it might strike some high point on the invisible hemisphere, 
which would doubtlessly have ended the journey much to 
the detriment of the travelers. 

A discussion arose on this subject, and Michel Ardan, 
always ready with an explanation, gave it as his opinion 
that the projectile, held by the lunar attraction, would end 
by falling on the surface of the terrestrial globe like an 
aerolite. 

“First of all, my friend,” answered Barbicane, “every 
aerolite does not fall to the earth; it is only a small pro- 
portion which do so; and if we had passed into an aero- 
lite, it does not necessarily follow that we should ever reach 
the surface of the moon.” 


770 


ROUND THE MOON 


“But how if we get near enough?” replied Michel. 

“Pure mistake,” replied Barbicane. “Have you not seen 
shooting stars rush through the sky by thousands at cer- 
tain seasons?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, these stars, or rather corpuscles, only shine when 
they are heated by gliding over the atmospheric layers. 
Now, if they enter the atmosphere, they pass at least with- 
in forty miles of the earth, but they seldom fall upon it. 
The same with our projectile. It may approach very near 
to the moon, and yet not fall upon it.” 

“But then,” asked Michel, “I shall be curious to know 
how our erring vehicle will act in space?” 

“I see but two hypotheses,” replied Barbicane, after 
some moments’ reflection. 

“What are they?” 

“The projectile has the choice between two mathemat- 
ical curves, and it will follow one or the other according to 
the speed with which it is animated, and which at this mo- 
ment I cannot estimate.” 

“Yes,” said Nicholl, “it will follow either a parabola or 
a hyperbola.” 

“Just so,” replied Barbicane. “With a certain speed 
it will assume the parabola, and with a greater the hyper- 
bola.” 

“I like those grand words,” exclaimed Michel Ardan; 
“one knows directly what they mean. And pray what is 
your parabola, if you please?” 

“My friend,” answered the captain, “the parabola is a 
curve of the second order, the result of the section of a 
cone intersected by a plane parallel to one of its sides.” 

“Ah! ah!” said Michel, in a satisfied tone. 

“It is very nearly,” continued Nicholl, “the course de- 
scribed by a bomb launched from a mortar.” 

“Perfect! And the hyperbola?” 

“The hyperbola, Michel, is a curve of the second order, 
produced by the intersection of a conic surface and a plane 
parallel to its axis, and constitutes two branches separated 


ROUND THE MOON 771 

one from the other, both tending indefinitely in the two 
directions.” 

“Is it possible!” exclaimed Michel Ardan in a serious 
tone, as if they had told him of some serious event. “What 
I particularly like in your definition of the hyperbola (I 
was going to say hyperblague) is that it is still more ob- 
scure than the word you pretend to define.” 

Nicholl and Barbicane cared little for Michel Ar dan’s 
fun. They were deep in a scientific discussion. What 
curve would the projectile follow.^ was their hobby. One 
maintained the hyperbola, the other the parabola. They 
gave each other reasons bristling with x. Their arguments 
were couched in language which made Michel jump. The 
discussion was hot, and neither would give up his chosen 
curve to his adversary. 

This scientific dispute lasted so long that i1, made Michel 
very impatient. 

“Now, gentlemen cosines, will you cease to throw para- 
bolas and hyperbolas at each other’s heads.? I want to 
understand the only interesting question in the whole 
affair. We shall follow one or other of these curves.? Good. 
But where will they lead us to.?” 

“Nowhere,” replied Nicholl. 

“How, nowhere .?” 

“Evidentl}^,” said Barbicane, “they are open curves, 
which may be prolonged indefinitely.” 

“Ah, savants!” cried Michel; “and what are either the 
one or the other to us from the moment we know that 
they equally lead us into infinite space.?” 

Barbicane and Nicholl could not forbear smiling. They 
had just been creating “art for art’s sake.” Never had so 
idle a question been raised at such an inopportune moment. 
The sinister truth remained that, whether hyperbolically 
or parabolically borne away, the projectile would never 
again meet either the earth or the moon. 

What would become of these bold travelers in the imme- 
diate future.? If they did not die of hunger, if they did 
not die of thirst, in some days, when the gas failed, they 
would die from want of air, unless the cold had killed them 


ROUND THE MOON 


m 

first. Still, important as it was to economize the gas, the 
excessive lowness of the surrounding temperature obliged 
them to consume a certain quantity. Strictly speaking, 
they could do without its light, but not without its heat. 
Fortunately the caloric generated by Reiset’s and Regnaut’s 
apparatus raised the temperature of the interior of the 
projectile a little, and without much expenditure they were 
able to keep it bearable. 

But observations had now become very difficult. The 
dampness of the projectile was condensed on the windows 
and congealed immediately. This cloudiness had to be 
dispersed continually. In any case they might hope to be 
able to discover some phenomena of the highest interest. 

But up to this time the disc remained dumb and dark. It 
did not answer the multiplicity of questions put by these 
ardent minds ; a matter which drew this reflection from 
Michel, apparently a just one: 

“If ever we begin this journey over again, we shall do 
well to choose the time when the moon is at the full.” 

“Certainly,” said Nicholl, “that circumstance will be more 
favorable. I allow that the moon, immersed in the sun’s rays, 
will not be visible during the transit, but instead we should 
see the earth, which would be full. And what is more, if we 
were drawn round the moon, as at this moment, we should 
at least have the advantage of seeing the invisible part of 
her disc magnificently lit.” 

“Well said, Nicholl,” replied Michel Ardan. “What do 
you think, Barbicane?” 

“I think this,” answered the grave president: “If ever 
we begin this journey again, we shall start at the same time 
and under the same conditions. Suppose we had attained our 
end, would it not have been better to have found continents 
in broad daylight than a country plunged in utter darkness ? 
Would not our first installation have been made under better 
circumstances.^ Yes, evidently. As to the invisible side, we 
could have visited it in our exploring expeditions on the 
lunar globe. So that the time of the full moon was well 
chosen. But we ought to have arrived at the end; and in 


ROUND THE MOON 773 

order to have so arrived, we ought to have suffered no devi- 
ation on the road.” 

“I have nothing to say to that,” answered Michel Ardan. 
“Here is, however, a good opportunity lost of observing the 
other side of the moon.” 

But the projectile was now describing in the shadow that 
incalculable course w^hich no sight-mark would allow them 
to ascertain. Had its direction been altered, either by the 
influence of the lunar attraction, or by the action of some 
unknown star.^^ Barbicane could not say. But a change had 
taken place in the relative position of the vehicle; and Bar- 
bicane verified it about four in the morning. 

The change consisted in this, that the base of the projec- 
tile had turned toward the moon’s surface, and was so held 
by a perpendicular passing through its axis. The attraction, 
that is to say the weight, had brought about this alteration. 
The heaviest part of the projectile inclined toward the in- 
visible disc as if it would fall upon it. 

Was it falling.^ Were the travelers attaining that much 
desired end.^ No. And the observation of a sign-point, quite 
inexplicable in itself, showed Barbicane that his projectile 
was not nearing the moon, and that it had shifted by follow- 
ing an almost concentric curve. 

This point of mark was a luminous brightness, which 
Nicholl sighted suddenly, on the limit of the horizon formed 
by the black disc. This point could not be confounded with 
a star. It was a reddish incandescence which increased by 
degrees, a decided proof that the projectile was shifting to- 
ward it and not falling normally on the surface of the moon. 

“A volcano! it is a volcano in action!” cried Nicholl; “a 
disemboweling of the interior fires of the moon ! That world 
is not quite extinguished.” 

“Yes, an eruption,” replied Barbicane, who was carefully 
studying the phenomenon through his night glass. “What 
should it be, if not a volcano.^” 

“But, then,” said Michel Ardan, “in order to maintain 
that combustion, there must be air. So the atmosphere does 
surround that part of the moon.” 

“Perhaps so,” replied Barbicane, “but not necessarily. 


774 


ROUND THE MOON 


The volcano, by the decomposition of certain substances, 
can provide its own oxygen, and thus throw flames into 
space. It seems to me that the deflagration, by the intense 
brilliancy of the substances in combustion, is produced in 
pure oxygen. We must not be in a hurry to proclaim the 
existence of a lunar atmosphere.” 

The fiery mountain must have been situated about the 
45° south latitude on the invisible part of the disc; but, to 
Barbicane’s great displeasure, the curve which the projec- 
tile was describing was taking it far from the point indi- 
cated by the eruption. Thus he could not determine its 
nature exactly. Half an hour after being sighted, this lumi- 
nous point had disappeared behind the dark horizon; but 
the verification of this phenomenon was of considerable con- 
sequence in their selenographic studies. It proved that all 
heat had not yet disappeared from the bowels of this globe ; 
and where heat exists, who can affirm that the vegetable 
kingdom, nay, even the animal kingdom itself, has not up to 
this time resisted all destructive influences.? The existence 
of this volcano in eruption, unmistakably seen by these 
earthly savants, would doubtless give rise to many theories 
favorable to the grave question of the habitability of the 
moon. 

Barbicane allowed himself to be carried away by these 
reflections. He forgot himself in a deep reverie in which the 
mysterious destiny of the lunar world was uppermost. He 
was seeking to combine together the facts observed up to 
that time, when a new incident recalled him briskly to real- 
ity. This incident was more than a cosmical phenomenon; 
it was a threatened danger, the consequences of which might 
be disastrous in the extreme. 

Suddenly, in the midst of the ether, in the profound dark- 
ness, an enormous mass appeared. It was like a moon, but 
an incandescent moon whose brilliancy was all the more 
intolerable as it cut sharply on the frightful darkness of 
space. This mass, of a circular form, threw a light which 
filled the projectile. The forms of Barbicane, Nicholl, and 
Michel Ardan, bathed in its white sheets, assumed that livid 


ROUND THE MOON 775 

spectral appearance which physicians produce with the fic- 
titious light of alcohol impregnated with salt. 

“By Jove!” cried Michel Ardan, “we are hideous. What 
is that ill-conditioned moon.?” 

“A meteor,’*’ replied Barbicane. 

“A meteor burning in space?” 

“Yes.” 

This shooting globe suddenly appearing in shadow at a 
distance of at most 200 miles, ought, according to Barbi- 
cane, to have a diameter of 2,000 yards. It advanced at a 
speed of about one mile and a half per second. It cut the 
projectile’s path and must reach it in some minutes. As it 
approached it grew to enormous proportions. 

Imagine, if possible, the situation of the travelers! It is 
impossible to describe it. In spite of their courage, their 
sang-froid^ their carelessness of danger, they were mute> 
motionless with stiffened limbs, a prey to frightful terror. 
Their projectile, the course of which they could not alter, 
was rushing straight on this ignited mass, more intense than 
the open mouth of an oven. It seemed as though they were 
being precipitated toward an abyss of fire. 

Barbicane had seized the hands of his two companions, 
and all three looked through their half-open eyelids upon 
that asteroid heated to a white heat. If thought was not 
destroyed within them, if their brains still worked amid all 
this awe, they must have given tliemselves up for lost. 

Two minutes after the sudden appearance of the meteor 
(to them two centuries of anguish) the projectile seemed 
almost about to strike it, when the globe of fire burst like 
a bomb, but without making any noise in that void where 
sound, which is but the agitation of the layers of air, could 
not be generated. 

Nicholl uttered a cry, and he and his companions rushed 
to the scuttle. What a sight! What pen can describe it? 
What palette is rich enough in colors to reproduce so mag- 
nificent a spectacle ? 

It was like the opening of a crater, like the scattering of 
an immense conflagration. Thousands of luminous frag- 
ments lit up and irradiated space with their fires. Every 


776 


ROUND THE MOON 


size, every color, was there intermingled. There were rays 
of yellow and pale yellow, red, green, gray — a crown of 
fireworks of all colors. Of the enormous and much-dreaded 
globe there remained nothing but these fragments carried 
in all directions, now become asteroids in their turn, some 
flaming like a sword, some surrounded by a whitish cloud, 
and others leaving behind them trains of brilliant cosmical 
dust. 

These incandescent blocks crossed and struck each other, 
scattering still smaller fragments, some of which struck the 
projectile. Its left scuttle was even cracked by a violent 
shock. It seemed to be floating amid a hail of howitzer shells, 
the smallest of which might destroy it instantly. 

The light which saturated the ether was so wonderfully 
intense, that Michel, drawing Barbicane Rnd Nicholl to his 
window, exclaimed, ‘‘The invisible moon, visible at last!” 

And through a luminous emanation, which lasted some 
seconds, the whole three caught a glimpse of that mysteri- 
ous disc which the eye of man now saw for the first time. 
What could they distinguish at a distance which they could 
not estimate.^ Some lengthened bands along the disc, real 
clouds formed in the midst of a very confined atmosphere, 
from which emerged not only all the mountains, but also 
projections of less importance; its circles, its yawning 
craters, as capriciously placed as on the visible surface. 
Then immense spaces, no longer arid plains, but real seas, 
oceans, widely distributed, reflecting on their liquid surface 
all the dazzling magic of the fires of space ; and, lastly, on 
the surface of the continents, large dark masses, looking 
like immense forests under the rapid illumination of a bril- 
liance. 

Was it an illusion, a mistake, an optical illusion? Could 
they give a scientific assent to an observation so superfi- 
cially obtained? Dared they pronounce upon the question 
of its habitability after so slight a glimpse of the invisible 
disc ? 

But the lightnings in space subsided by degrees; its ac- 
cidental brilliancy died away; the asteroids dispersed in 
different directions and were extinguished in the distance. 


ROUND THE MOON 


77T 

The ether returned to its accustomed darkness; the stars, 
eclipsed for a moment, again twinkled in the firmament, and 
the disc, so hastily discerned, was again buried in impene- 
trable night. 


CHAPTER XVI 

THE SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE 

The projectile had just escaped a terrible danger, and 
a very unforeseen one. Who would have thought of such an 
encounter with meteors These erring bodies might create 
serious perils for the travelers. They were to them so many 
sandbanks upon that sea of ether which, less fortunate than 
sailors, they could not escape. But did these adventurers 
complain of space No, not since nature had given them 
the splendid sight of a cosmical meteor bursting from ex- 
pansion, since this inimitable firework, which no Ruggieri 
could imitate, had lit up for some seconds the invisible glory 
of the moon. In that flash, continents, seas, and forests had 
become visible to them. Did an atmosphere, then, bring to 
this unknown face its life-giving atoms Questions still in- 
soluble, and forever closed against human curiosity! 

It was then half-past three in the afternoon. The projec- 
tile was following its curvilinear direction round the moon. 
Had its course been again altered by the meteor.? It was to 
be feared so. But the projectile must describe a curve un- 
alterably determined by the laws of mechanical reasoning. 
Barbicane was inclined to believe that this curve would be 
rather a parabola than a hyperbola. But admitting the para- 
bola, the projectile must quickly have passed through the 
cone of shadow projected into space opposite the sun. This 
cone, indeed, is very narrow, the angular diameter of the 
moon being so little when compared with the diameter of the 
orb of day; and up to this time ttue projectile had been 
floating in this deep shadow. Whatever had been its speed 
(and it could not have been insignificant), its period of 
occultation continued. That was evident, but perhaps that 


778 


ROUND THE MOON 


would not have been the case in a supposed rigidily para- 
bolical trajectory — a new problem which tormented Barbi- 
cane’s brain, imprisoned as he was in a circle of unknowms 
which he could not unravel. 

Neither of the travelers thought of taking an instant’s 
repose. Each one watched for an unexpected fact, which 
might throw some new light on their uranographic studies. 
About five o’clock, Michel Ardan distributed, under the 
name of dinner, some pieces of bread and cold meat, which 
were quickly swallowed without either of them abandoning 
their scuttle, the glass of which was incessantly encrusted 
by the condensation of vapor. 

About forty-five minutes past five in the evening, Nicholl, 
armed with his glass, sighted toward the southern border 
of the moon, and in the direction followed by the projectile, 
some bright points cut upon the dark shield of the sky. They 
looked like a succession of sharp points lengthened into a 
tremulous line. They were very bright. Such appeared the 
terminal line of the moon when in one of her octants. 

They could not be mistaken. It was no longer a simple 
meteor. This luminous ridge had neither color nor motion. 
Nor was it a volcano in eruption. And Barbicane did not 
hesitate to pronounce upon it. 

“The sun !” he exclaimed. 

“What! the sun.^” answered Nicholl and Michel Ardan. 

“Yes, my friends, it is the radiant orb itself lighting 
up the summit of the mountains situated on the southern 
borders of the moon. We are evidently nearing the south 
pole.” 

“After having passed the north pole,” replied Michel. 
^‘We have made the circuit of our satellite, then.?” 

“Yes, my good Michel.” 

“Then, no more hyperbolas, no more parabolas, no more 
open curves to fear.?” 

“No, but a closed curve.” 

“Which is called ” 

“An ellipse. Instead of losing itself in interplanetary 
space, it is probable that the projectile will describe an 
elliptical orbit around the moon.” 


ROUND THE MOON 


779 


‘‘Indeed!” 

“And that it will become her satellite.” 

“Moon of the moon!” cried Michel Ardan. 

“Only, I would have you observe, my worthy friend,” 
replied Barbicane, “that we are none the less lost for that.” 

“Yes, in another manner, and much more pleasantly,” 
answered the careless Frenchman with his most amiable 
smile. 


CHAPTER XVII 

TYCHO 

At six in the evening the projectile passed the south pole 
at less than forty miles off, a distance equal to that already 
reached at the north pole. The elliptical curve was being 
rigidly carried out. 

At this moment the travelers once more entered the blessed 
rays of the sun. They saw once more those stars which move 
slowdy from east to west. The radiant orb was saluted by a 
triple hurrah. With its light it also sent heat, which soon 
pierced the metal walls. The glass resumed its accustomed 
appearance. The layers of ice melted as if by enchantment ; 
and immediately, for economy’s sake, the gas was put out, 
the air apparatus alone consuming its usual quantity. 

“Ah!” said Nicholl, “these rays of heat are good. With 
what impatience must the Selenites wait the reappearance 
of the orb of day.” 

“Yes,” replied Michel Ardan, “imbibing at it were the 
brilliant ether, light and heat, all life is contained in them.” 

At this moment the bottom of the projectile deviated 
somewhat from the lunar surface, in order to follow the 
slightly lengthened elliptical orbit. From this point, had the 
earth been at the full, Barbicane and his companions could 
have seen it, but immersed in the sun’s irradiation she was 
quite invisible. Another spectacle attracted their attention, 
that of the southern part of the moon, brought by the glasses 


ROUND THE MOON 


780 

to within 450 yards. They did not again leave the scuttles, 
and noted every detail of this fantastical continent. 

Mounts Doerfel and Leibnitz formed two separate groups 
very near the south pole. The first group extended from 
the pole to the eighty-fourth parallel, on the eastern part 
of the orb; the second occupied the eastern border, extend- 
ing from the 65° of latitude to the pole. 

On their capriciously formed ridge appeared dazzling 
sheets, as mentioned by Pere Secchi. With more certainty 
than the illustrious Roman astronomer, Barbicane was 
enabled to recognize their nature. 

“They are snow,” he exclaimed. 

“Snow.?^” repeated Nicholl. 

“Yes, Nicholl, snow; the surface of which is deeply frozen. 
See how they reflect the luminous rays. Cooled lava would 
never give out such intense reflection. There must then be 
water, there must be air on the moon. As little as you please, 
but the fact can no longer be contested.” No, it could not 
be. And if ever Barbicane should see the earth again, his 
notes will bear witness to this great fact in his selenographic 
observations. 

These mountains of Doerfel and Leibnitz rose in the 
midst of plains of a medium extent, which were bounded 
by an indefinite succession of circles and annular ram- 
parts. These two chains are the only ones met with in this 
region of circles. Comparatively but slightly marked, they 
throw up here and there some sharp points, the highest 
summit of which attains an altitude of 24,600 feet. 

But the projectile was high above all this landscape, and 
the projections disappeared in the intense brilliancy of the 
disc. And to the eyes of the travelers there reappeared that 
original aspect of the lunar landscapes, raw in tone, with- 
out gradation of colors, and without degrees of shadow, 
roughly black and white, from the want of diffusion of 
light. 

But the sight of this desolate world did not fail to capti- 
vate them by its very strangeness. They were moving over 
this region as if they had been borne on the breath of some 


ROUND THE MOON 


781 


storm, watching heights defile under their feet, piercing the 
cavities with their eyes, going down into the rifts, climbing 
the ramparts, sounding these mysterious holes, and leveling 
all cracks. But no trace of vegetation, no appearance of 
cities; nothing but stratification, beds of lava, overflowings 
polished like immense mirrors, reflecting the sun’s rays with 
overpowering brilliancy. Nothing belonging to a living 
world — everything to a dead world, where avalanches, roll- 
ing from the summits of the mountains, would disperse 
noiselessly at the bottom of the abyss, retaining the motion, 
but wanting the sound. In any case it was the image of 
death, without its being possible even to say that life had 
ever existed there. 

Michel Ardan, however, thought he recognized a heap 
of ruins, to which he drew Barbicane’s attention. It was 
about the 80th parallel, in 30° longitude. This heap of 
stones, rather regularly placed, represented a vast fortress, 
overlooking a long rift, which in former days had served 
as a bed to the rivers of prehistorical times. Not far from 
that, rose to a height of 17,400 feet the annular mountain 
of Short, equal to the Asiatic Caucasus. Michel Ardan, with 
his accustomed ardor, maintained “the evidences” of his 
fortress. Beneath it he discerned the dismantled ramparts 
of a town; here the still intact arch of a portico, there two 
or three columns lying under their base; farther on, a suc- 
cession of arches which must have supported the conduit 
of an aqueduct; in another part the sunken pillars of a 
gigantic bridge, run into the thickest parts of the rift. He 
distinguished all this, but with, so much imagination in his 
glance, and through glasses so fantastical, that we must 
mistrust his observation. But who could affirm, who would 
dare to say, that the amiable fellow did not really see that 
which his two companions would not see.^ 

Moments were too precious to be sacrificed in idle discus- 
sion. The Selenite city, whether imaginary or not, had 
already disapeared afar off. The distance of the projectile 
from the lunar disc was on the increase, and the details of 
the soil were being lost in a confused jumble. The reliefs. 


782 


ROUND THE MOON 


the circles, the craters, and plains alone remained, and still 
showed their boundary lines distinctly. At this moment, to 
the left, lay extended one of the finest circles of lunar oro- 
graphy, one of the curiosities of this continent. It was New- 
ton, which Barbicane recognized without trouble, by re- 
ferring to the Mappa Selenographica. 

Newton is situated in exactly 77° south latitude, and 16° 
east longitude. It forms an annular crater, the ramparts of 
which, rising to a height of 21,800 feet, seemed to be 
impassable. 

Barbicane made his companions observe that the height 
of this mountain above the surrounding plain was far from 
equaling the depth of its crater. This enormous hole was 
beyond all measurement, and formed a gloomy abyss, the 
bottom of which the sun’s rays could never reach. There, 
according to Humboldt, reigns utter darkness, which the 
hght of the sun and the earth cannot break. Mythologists 
could well have made it the mouth of hell. 

‘‘Newton,” said Barbicane, “is the most perfect type of 
these annular mountains, of which the earth possesses no 
sample. They prove that the moon’s formation, by means of 
cooling, is due to violent causes; for while, under the pres- 
sure of internal fires the reliefs rise to considerable height, 
the depths withdraw far below the lunar level.” 

“I do not dispute the fact,” replied Michel Ardan. 

Some minutes after passing Newton, the projectile di- 
rectly overlooked the annular mountain of Moret. It skirted 
at some distance the summits of Blancanus, and at about 
half-past seven in the evening reached the circle of Clavius. 

This circle, one of the most remarkable of the disc, is 
situated in 58° south latitude, and 15° east longitude. Its 
height is estimated at 22,950 feet. The travelers, at a dis- 
tance of twenty-four miles (reduced to four by their 
glasses) could admire this vast crater in its entirety. 

“Terrestrial volcanoes,” said Barbicane, “are but mole- 
hills compared with those of the moon. Measuring the old 
craters formed by the first eruptions of Vesuvius and Etna, 
we find them little more than three miles in breadth. In 


ROUND THE MOON 


783 


France the circle of Cantal measures six miles across; at 
Ceyland the circle of the island is forty miles, which is con- 
sidered the largest on the globe. What are these diameters 
against that of Clavius, which we overlook at this moment 

“What is its breadth?” asked Nicholl. 

“It is 150 miles,” replied Barbicane. “This circle is cer- 
tainly the most important on the moon, but many others 
measure 150, 100, or 75 miles.” 

“Ah! my friends,” exclaimed Michel, “can you picture 
to yourselves what this now peaceful orb of night must have 
been when its craters, filled with thunderings, vomited at 
the same time smoke and tongues of flame. What a wonder- 
ful spectacle then, and now what decay ! This moon is noth- 
ing more than a thin carcase of fireworks, whose squibs, 
rockets, serpents, and suns, after a superb brilliancy, have 
left but sadly broken cases. Who can say the cause, the rea- 
son, the motive force of these cataclysms?” 

Barbicane was not listening to Michel Ardan ; he was con- 
templating these ramparts of Clavius, formed by large 
mountains spread over several miles. At the bottom of the 
immense cavity burrowed hundreds of small extinguished 
craters, riddling the soil like a colander, and overlooked by 
a peak 15,000 feet high. 

Around the plain appeared desolate. Nothing so arid as 
these reliefs, nothing so sad as these ruins of mountains, and 
(if we may so express ourselves) these fragments of peaks 
and mountains which strewed the soil. The satellite seemed 
to have burst at this spot. 

The projectile was still advancing, and this movement did 
not subside. Circles, craters, and uprooted mountains suc- 
ceeded each other incessantly. No more plains ; no more seas. 
A never ending Switzerland and Norway. And lastly, in the 
center of this region of crevasses, the most splendid moun- 
tain on the lunar disc, the dazzling Tycho, in which poster- 
ity will ever preserve the name of the illustrious Danish 
astronomer. 

In observing the full moon in a cloudless sky no one has 
failed to remark this brilliant point of the southern hemis- 


ROUND THE MOON 


784 

phere. Michel Ardan used every metaphor that his imagina- 
tion could supply to designate it by. To him this Tycho was 
a focus of light, a center of irradiation, a crater vomiting 
rays. It was the tire of a brilliant wheel, an asteria enclosing 
the disc with its silver tentacles, an enormous eye filled with 
flames, a glory carved for Pluto’s head, a star launched by 
the Creator’s hand, and crushed against the face of the 
moon ! 

Tycho forms such a concentration of light that the in- 
habitants of the earth can see it without glasses, though at 
a distance of 240,000 miles ! Imagine, then, its intensity to 
the eye of observers placed at a distance of only fifty miles ! 
Seen through this pure ether, its brilliancy was so intoler- 
able that Bar bicane and his friends were obliged to blacken 
their glasses with the gas smoke before they could bear the 
splendor. Then silent, scarcely uttering an interjection of 
admiration, they gazed, they contemplated. All their feel- 
ings, all their impressions, were concentrated in that look, 
as under any violent emotion all life is concentrated at the 
heart. 

Tycho belongs to the system of radiating mountains, like 
Aristarchus and Copernicus; but it is of all the most com- 
plete and decided, showing unquestionably the frightful 
volcanic action to which the formation of the moon is due. 
Tycho is situated in 4S° south latitude, and 12° east longi- 
tude. Its center is occupied bv a crater fifty miles broad. 
It assumes a slightly elliptical form, and is surrounded by 
an enclosure of annular ramparts, which on the east and 
west overlook the outer plain from a height of 15,000 feet. 
It is a group of Mont Blancs, placed round one common 
center and crowned by radiating beams. 

What this incomparable mountain really is, with all the 
projections converging toward it, and the interior excres- 
cences of its crater, photography itself could never repre- 
sent. Indeed, it is during the full moon that Tycho is seen 
in all its splendor. Then all shadows disappear, the fore- 
shortening of perspective disappears, and all proofs become 
white — a disagreeable fact; for this strange region would 


ROUND THE MOON 


785 

have been marvelous if reproduced with photographic exact- 
ness. It is but a group of hollows, craters, circles, a net- 
work of crests ; then, as far as the eye could see, a whole 
volcanic network cast upon this encrusted soil. One can 
then understand that the bubbles of this central eruption 
have kept their first form. Crystallized by cooling, they 
have stereotyped that aspect which the moon formerly pre- 
sented when under the Plutonian forces. 

The distance which separated the travelers from the an- 
nular summits of Tycho was not so great but that they 
could catch the principal details. Even on the causeway 
forming the fortifications of Tycho, the mountains hanging 
on to the interior and exterior sloping flanks rose in stories 
like gigantic terraces. They appeared to be higher by 300 
or 400 feet to the west than to the east. No system of ter- 
restrial encampment could equal these natural fortifica- 
tions. A town built at the bottom of this circular cavity 
would have been utterly inaccessible. 

Inaccessible and wonderfully extended over this soil cov- 
ered with picturesque projections! Indeed, nature had not 
left the bottom of this crater flat and empty. It possessed 
its own peculiar orography, a mountainous system, making 
it a world in itself. The travelers could distinguish clearly 
cones, central hills, remarkable positions of the soil, natur- 
ally placed to receive the chef s-d'' oeuvre of Selenite architec- 
ture. There was marked out the place for a temple, here the 
ground of a forum, on this spot the plan of a palace, in 
another the plateau for a citadel; the whole overlooked by 
a central mountain of 1,500 feet. A vast circle, in which 
ancient Rome could have been held in its entirety ten times 
over. 

“Ah I” exclaimed Michel Ardan, enthusiastic at the sight ; 
“what a grand town might be constructed within that ring 
of mountains! A quiet city, a peaceful refuge, beyond all 
human misery. How calm and isolated those misanthropes, 
those haters of humanity might live there, and all who have 
a distaste for social life!” 

“All ! It would be too small for them,” replied Barbicane 
simply. 


786 


ROUND THE MOON 


CHAPTER XVIII 

GRAVE aUESTIONS 

But the projectile had passed the enceinte of Tycho, and 
Barbicane and his two companions watched with scrupulous 
attention the brilliant rays which the celebrated mountain 
shed so curiously all over the horizon. 

What was this radiant glory What geological phenome- 
non had designed these ardent beams.? This question occu- 
pied Barbicane’s mind. 

Under his eyes ran in all directions luminous furrows, 
raised at the edges and concave in the center, some twelve 
miles, others thirty miles broad. These brilliant trains ex- 
tended in some places to within 600 miles of Tycho, and 
seemed to cover, particularly toward the east, the northeast 
and the north, the half of the southern hemisphere. One of 
these jets extended as far as the circle of Neander, situated 
on the 40th meridian. Another, by a slight curve, furrowed 
the “Sea of Nectar,” breaking against the chain of Pyrenees, 
after a circuit of 800 miles. Others, toward the west, cov- 
ered the “Sea of Clouds” and the “Sea of Humors” with a 
luminous network. What was the origin of these sparkling 
rays, which shone on the plains as well as on the reliefs, at 
whatever height they might be.? All started from a common 
center, the crater of Tycho. They sprang from him. Her- 
schel attributed their brilliancy to currents of lava congealed 
by the cold ; an opinion, however, which has not been gener- 
ally adopted. Other astronomers have seen in these inexpli- 
cable rays a kind of moraines, rows of erratic blocks, which 
had been thrown up at the period of Tycho’s formation. 

“And why not.?” asked Nicholl of Barbicane, who was 
relating and rejecting these different opinions. 

“Because the regularity of these luminous lines, and the 
violence necessary to carry volcanic matter to such dis- 
tances, is inexplicable.” 

“Eh! by Jove!” replied Michel Ardan, “it seems easy 
enough to me to explain the origin of these rays.” 

“Indeed.?” said Barbicane. 


ROUND THE MOON 


787 


“Indeed,” continued Michel. “It is enough to say that it 
is a vast star, similar to that produced by a ball or a stone 
thrown at a square of glass!” 

“Well!” replied Barbicane, smiling. “And what hand 
would be powerful enough to throw a ball to give such a 
shock as that.?” 

“The hand is not necessary,” answered Nicholl, not at 
all confounded; “and as to the stone, let us suppose it to 
be a comet.” 

“Ah! those much-abused comets!” exclaimed Barbicane. 
“My brave Michel, your explanation is not bad; but your 
comet is useless. The shock which produced that rent must 
have come from the inside of the star. A violent contraction 
of the lunar crust, while cooling, might suffice to imprint 
this gigantic star.” 

“A contraction! something like a lunar stomach-ache,” 
said Michel Ardan. 

“Besides,” added Barbicane, “this opinion is that of an 
English savant, Nasmyth, and it seems to me to sufficiently 
explain the radiation of these mountains.” 

“That Nasmyth was no fool!” replied Michel. 

Long did the travelers, whom such a sight could never 
weary, admire the splendors of Tycho. Their projectile, 
saturated with luminous gleams in the double irradiation 
of sun and moon, must have appeared like an incandescent 
globe. They had passed suddenly from excessive cold to in- 
tense heat. Nature was thus preparing them to become 
Selenites. Become Selenites ! That idea brought up once 
more the question of the habitability of the moon. After 
what they had seen, could the travelers solve it.? Would 
they decide for or against it.? Michel Ardan persuaded his 
two friends to form an opinion, and asked them directly if 
they thought that men and animals were represented in the 
lunar world. 

“I think that we can answer,” said Barbicane ; “but ac- 
cording to my idea the question ought not to be put in that 
form. I ask it to be put differently.” 

“Put it your own way,” replied Michel. 

“Here it is,” continued Barbicane. “The problem is a 


788 


ROUND THE MOON 


double one, and requires a double solution. Is the moon 
habitable? Has the moon ever been inhabitable?^^ 

‘‘Good!” replied Nicholl. “First let us see whether the 
moon is habitable.” 

“To tell the truth, I know nothing about it,” answered 
Michel. 

“And I answer in the negative,” continued Barbicane. 
“In her actual state, with her surrounding atmosphere cer- 
tainly very much reduced, her seas for the most part dried 
up, her insufficient supply of water restricted, vegetation, 
sudden alterations of cold and heat, her days and nights of 
351 hours — the moon does not seem habitable to me, nor 
does she seem propitious to animal development, nor suffi- 
cient for the wants of existence as we understand it.” 

“Agreed,” replied Nicholl. “But is not the moon habitable 
for creatures differently organized from ourselves.?” 

“That question is more difficult to answer, but I will try ; 
and I ask Nicholl if motion appears to him to be a necessary 
result of life, whatever be its organization.?” 

“Without a doubt!” answered Nicholl. 

“Then, my worthy companion, I would answer that we 
have observed the lunar continent at a distance of 500 yards 
at most, and that nothing seemed to us to move on the 
moon’s surface. The presence of any kind of life would have 
been betrayed by its attendant marks, such as divers build- 
ings, and even by ruins. And what have we seen.? Every- 
where and always the geological works of nature, never the 
work of man. If, then, there exist representatives of the 
animal kingdom on the moon, they must have fled to those 
unfathomable cavities which the eye cannot reach; which 
I cannot admit, for they must have left traces of their pass- 
age on those plains which the atmosphere must cover, how- 
ever slightly raised it may be. These traces are nowhere 
visible. There remains but one hypothesis, that of a living 
race to which motion, which is life, is foreign.” 

“One might as well say, living creatures which do not 
live,” replied Michel. 

“Just so,” said Barbicane, “which for us has no meaning.” 

“Then we may form our opinion.?” said Michel. 


ROUND THE MOON 


789 


‘‘Yes,” replied Nicholl. 

“Very well,” continued Michel Ardan, “the Scientific 
Commission assembled in the projectile of the Gun Club, 
after having founded their argument on facts recently ob- 
served, decide unanimously upon the question of the habi- 
tability of the moon — ‘Ao/ the moon is not habitable.’ ” 

This decision was consigned by President Barbicane to 
his notebook, where the process of the sitting of the 6th of 
December may be seen. 

“Now,” said Nicholl, “let us attack the second ques- 
tion, an indispensable complement of the first. I ask the 
honorable commission, if the moon is not habitable, has 
she ever been inhabited. Citizen Barbicane.?” 

“My friends,” replied Barbicane, “I did not undertake 
this journey in order to form an opinion on the past 
habitability of our satellite; but I will add that our per- 
sonal observations only confirm me in this opinion. I believe, 
indeed I affirm, that the moon has been inhabited by a 
human race organized like our own; that she has produced 
animals anatomically formed like the terrestrial animals : 
but I add that these races, human and animal, have had 
their day, and are now forever extinct!” 

“Then,” asked Michel, “the moon must be older than the 
earth.?” 

“No!” said Barbicane decidedly, “but a world which has 
grown old quicker, and whose formation and deformation 
have been more rapid. Relatively, the organizing force of 
matter has been much more violent in the interior of the 
moon than in the interior of the terrestrial globe. The actual 
state of this cracked, twisted, and burst disc abundantly 
proves this. The moon and the earth were nothing but 
gaseous masses originally. These gases have passed into a 
liquid state under different influences, and the solid masses 
have been formed later. But most certainly our sphere was 
still gaseous or liquid, when the moon was solidified by cool- 
ing, and had become habitable.” 

“I believe it,” said Nicholl. 

“Then,” continued Barbicane, “an atmosphere surrounded 
it, the waters contained within this gaseous envelope could 


ROUND THE MOON 


790 

not evaporate. Under the influence of air, water, light, solar 
heat, and central heat, vegetation took possession of the 
continents prepared to receive it, and certainly life showed 
itself about this period, for nature does not expend herself 
in vain ; and a world so wonderfully formed for habitation 
must necessarily be inhabited.” 

“But,” said Nicholl, “many phenomena inherent in our 
satellite might cramp the expansion of the animal and vege- 
table kingdom. For example, its days and nights of 354 
hours 

“At the terrestrial poles they last six months,” said 
Michel. 

“An argument of little value, since the poles are not 
inhabited.” 

“Let us observe, my friends,” continued Barbicane, “that 
if in the actual state of the moon its long nights and long 
days created differences of temperature insupportable to 
organization, it was not so at the historical period of time. 
The atmosphere enveloped the disc with a fluid mantle; 
vapor deposited itself in the shape of clouds; this natural 
screen tempered the ardor of the solar rays, and retained the 
nocturnal radiation. Light, like heat, can diffuse itself in 
the air; hence an equality between the influences which no 
longer exists, now that that atmosphere has almost entirely 
disappeared. And now I am going to astonish you.” 

“Astonish us.?” said Michel Ardan. 

“I firmly believe that at the period when the moon was 
inhabited, the nights and days did not last 354 hours !” 

“And why.?” asked Nicholl quickly. 

“Because most probably then the rotary motion of the 
moon upon her axis was not equal to her revolution, an 
equality which presents each part of her disc during fifteen 
days to the action of the solar rays.” 

“Granted,” replied Nicholl, “but why should not these 
two motions have been equal, as they are really so.?” 

“Because that equality has only been determined by ter- 
restrial attraction. And who can say that this attraction 
was powerful enough to alter the motion of the moon at 
that period when the earth was still fluid.?” 


ROUND THE MOON 791 

“Just SO,” replied Nicholl; ‘‘and who can say that the 
moon has always been a satellite of the earth?” 

“And who can say,” exclaimed Michel Ardan, “that the 
moon did not exist before the earth?” 

Their imaginations carried them away into an indefinite 
field of hypothesis. Barbicane sought to restrain them. 

“Those speculations are too high,” said he; “problems 
utterly insoluble. Do not let us enter upon them. Let us 
only admit the insufficiency of the primordial attraction; 
and then by the inequality of the two motions of rotation 
and revolution, the days and nights could have succeeded 
each other on the moon as they succeed each other on the 
earth. Besides, even without these conditions, life was pos- 
sible.” 

“And so,” asked Michel Ardan, “humanity has disap- 
peared from the moon?” 

“Yes,” replied Barbicane, “after having doubtless re- 
mained persistently for millions of centuries; by degrees 
the atmosphere becoming rarefied, the disc became unin- 
habitable, as the terrestrial globe will one day become by 
cooling.” 

“By cooling?” 

“Certainly,” replied Barbicane; “as the internal fires be- 
came extinguished, and the incandescent matter concen- 
trated itself, the lunar crust cooled. By degrees the con- 
sequences of these phenomena showed themselves in the 
disappearance of organized beings, and by the disappearance 
of vegetation. Soon the atmosphere was rarefied, probably 
withdrawn by terrestrial attraction; then aerial departure 
of respirable air, and disappearance of water by means of 
evaporation. At this period the moon becoming uninhabit- 
able, was no longer inhabited. It was a dead world, such as 
we see it to-day.” 

“And you say that the same fate is in store for the 
earth?” 

“Most probably.” 

“But when?” 

“When the cooling of its crust shall have made it unin- 
habitable.” 


792 


ROUND THE MOON 


“And have they calculated the time which our unfor- 
tunate sphere will take to cool?” 

“Certainly.” 

“And you know these calculations?” 

“Perfectly.” 

“But speak, then, my clumsy savant,” exclaimed Michel 
Ardan, “for you make me boil with impatience!” 

“Very well, my good Michel,” replied Barbicane quietly; 
“we know what diminution of temperature the earth under- 
goes in the lapse of a century. And according to certain cal- 
culations, this mean temperature will after a period of 400,- 

000 years, be brought down to zero 1” 

“Four hundred thousand years !” exclaimed Michel. “Ah I 

1 breathe again. Really I was frightened to hear you; I 
imagined that we had not more than 50,000 years to live.” 

Barbicane and Nicholl could not help laughing at their 
companion’s uneasiness. Then Nicholl, who wished to end 
the discussion, put the second question, which had just been 
considered again. 

“Has the moon been inhabited?” he asked. 

The answer was unanimously in the affirmative. But dur- 
ing this discussion, fruitful in somewhat hazardous theories, 
the projectile was rapidly leaving the moon: the lineaments 
faded away from the travelers’ eyes, mountains were con- 
fused in the distance ; and of all the wonderful, strange, and 
fantastical form of the earth’s satellite, there soon remained 
nothing but the imperishable remembrance. 


CHAPTER XIX 

A STRUGGLE AGAINST THE IMPOSSIBLE 

For a long time Barbicane and his companions looked 
silently and sadly upon that world which they had only 
seen from a distance, as Moses saw the land of Canaan, and 
which they were leaving without a possibility of ever re- 
turning to it. The projectile’s position with regard to the 
moon had altered, and the base was now turned to the earth. 


ROUND THE MOON 


793 


This change, which Barbicane verified, did not fail to 
surprise them. If the projectile was to gravitate round the 
satellite in an elliptical orbit, why was not its heaviest part 
turned toward it, as the moon turns hers to the earth That 
was a difficult point. 

In watching the course of the projectile they could see 
that on leaving the moon it followed a course analogous to 
that traced in approaching her. It was describing a very 
long ellipse, which would most likely extend to the point 
of equal attraction, where the influences of the earth and its 
satellite are neutralized. 

Such was the conclusion which Barbicane very justly 
drew from facts already observed, a conviction which his 
two friends shared with him. 

“And when arrived at this dead point, what will become 
of us.?” asked Michel Ardan. 

“We don’t know,” replied Barbicane. 

“But one can draw some hypotheses, I suppose.?” 

“Two,” answered Barbicane; “either the projectile’s 
speed will be insufficient, and it will remain forever im- 
movable on this line of double attraction ” 

“I prefer the other hypothesis, whatever it may be,” in- 
terrupted Michel. 

“Or,” continued Barbicane, “its speed will be sufficient, 
and it will continue its elliptical course, to gravitate for^ 
ever around the orb of night.” 

“A revolution not at all consoling,” said Michel, “to pass 
to the state of humble servants to a moon whom we are 
accustomed to look upon as our own handmaid. So that is 
the fate in store for us.?” 

Neither Barbicane nor Nicholl answered. 

“You do not answer,” continued Michel impatiently. 

“There is nothing to answer,” said Nicholl. 

“Is there nothing to try.?” 

“No,” answered Barbicane. “Do you pretend to fight 
against the impossible.?” 

“Why not .? Do one Frenchman and two Americans shrink 
from such a word.?” 

“But what would you do.?” 


794 


ROUND THE MOON 


“Subdue this motion which is bearing us away.” 

“Subdue it?” 

“Yes,” continued Michel, getting animated, “or else alter 
it, and employ it to the accomplishment of our own ends.” 

“And how?” 

“That is your affair. If artillerymen are not masters of 
their projectile they are not artillerymen. If the projectile 
is to command the gunner, we had better ram the gunner 
into the gun. My faith ! fine savants ! who do not know what 
is to become of us after inducing me ” 

“Inducing you !” cried Barbicane and Nicholl. “Inducing 
you ! What do you mean by that?” 

“No recrimination,” said Michel. “I do not complain, the 
trip has pleased me, the projectile agrees with me; but let 
us do all that is humanly possible to do the fall somew^here, 
even if only on the moon.” 

“We ask no better, my worthy Michel,” replied Barbi- 
cane, “but means fail us.” 

“We cannot alter the motion of the projectile?” 

“No.” 

“Nor diminish its speed?” 

“No.” 

“Not even by lightening it, as they lighten an overloaded 
vessel?” 

“What would you throw out?” said Nicholl. “We have 
no ballast on board; and indeed it seems to me that if 
lightened it would go much quicker.” 

“Slower.” 

“Quicker.” 

“Neither slower nor quicker,” said Barbicane, wishing to 
make his two friends agree ; “for we float in space, and must 
no longer consider specific weight.” 

“Very well,” cried Michel Ardan in a decided voice; “then 
there remains but one thing to do.” 

“What is it?” said Nicholl. 

“Breakfast,” answered the cool, audacious Frenchman, 
who always brought up this solution at the most difficult 
juncture. 

In any case, if this operation had no influence on the 


ROUND THE MOON 


795 


projectile’s course, it could at least be tried without incon- 
venience, and even with success from a stomachic point of 
view. Certainly Michel had none hut good ideas. 

They breakfasted then at two in the morning; the hour 
mattered little. Michel served his usual repast, crowned by a 
glorious bottle drawn from his private cellar. If ideas did 
not crowd on their brains, we must despair of the Chamber- 
tin of 1853. The repast finished, observation began again. 
Around the projectile, at an invariable distance, were the 
objects which had been thrown out. Evidently, in its trans- 
latory motion round the moon, it had not passed through 
any atmosphere, for the specific weight of these different 
objects would have checked their relative speed. 

On the side of the terrestrial sphere nothing was to be 
seen. The earth was but a day old, having been new the 
night before at twelve ; and two days must elapse before its 
crescent, freed from the solar rays, would serve as a clock 
to the Selenites, as in its rotatory movement each of its 
points after twenty-four hours repasses the same lunar 
meridian. 

On the moon’s side the sight was different; the orb shone 
in all her splendor amid innumerable constellations, whose 
purity could not be troubled by her rays. On the disc, the 
plains were already returning to the dark tint which is seen 
from the earth. The other part of the nimbus remained bril- 
liant, and in the midst of this general brilliancy Tycho 
shone prominently like a sun. 

Barbicane had no means of estimating the projectile’s 
speed, but reasoning showed that it must uniformly decrease, 
according to the laws of mechanical reasoning. Having ad- 
mitted that the projectile was describing an orbit around 
the moon, this orbit must necessarily be elliptical; science 
proves that it must be so. No motive body circulating round 
an attracting body fails in this law. Every orbit described 
in space is elliptical. And why should the projectile of the 
Gun Club escape this natural arrangement.^ In elliptical 
orbits, the attracting body always occupies one of the foci; 
so that at one moment the satellite is nearer, and at another 
farther from the orb around which it gravitates. When the 


796 


ROUND THE MOON 


earth is nearest the sun she is in her perihelion ; and in her 
aphelion at the farthest point. Speaking of the moon, she is 
nearest to the earth in her perigee, and farthest from it in 
her apogee. To use analogous expressions, with which the 
astronomers’ language is enriched, if the projectile remains 
as a satellite of the moon, we must say that it is in its 
^^aposelene” at its farthest point, and in its “periselene” at 
its nearest. In the latter case, the projectile would attain 
its maximum of speed; and in the former its minimum. It 
was evidently moving toward its aposelenitical point; and 
Barbicane had reason to think that its speed would decrease 
up to this point, and then increase by degrees as it neared 
the moon. This speed would even become mZ, if this point 
joined that of equal attraction. Barbicane studied the con- 
sequences of these different situations, and thinking what 
inference he could draw from them, when he Avas roughly dis- 
turbed by a cry from Michel Ardan.' 

“By Jove!” he exclaimed, “I must admit we are down- 
right simpletons!” 

“I do not say we are not,” replied Barbicane; “but why.?^” 

“Because we have a very simple means of checking this 
speed which is bearing us from the moon, and we do not 
use it!” 

“And what is the means .^” 

“To use the recoil contained in our rockets.” 

“Done!” said Nicholl. 

“We have not used this force yet,” said Barbicane, “it is 
true, but we will do so.” 

“When.?” asked Michel. 

“When the time comes. Observe, my friends, that in the 
position occupied by the projectile, an oblique position with 
regard to the lunar disc, our rockets, in slightly altering 
its direction, might turn it from the moon instead of draw- 
ing it nearer.?” 

“Just so,” replied Michel. 

“Let us wait, then. By some inexplicable influence, the 
projectile is turning its base toward the earth. It is prob- 
able that at the point of equal attraction, its conical cap 
will be directed rigidly toward the moon ; at that moment Ave 


ROUND THE MOON 


797 


may hope that its speed will be nil ; then will be the moment 
to act, and with the influence of our rockets we may perhaps 
provoke a fall directly on the surface of the lunar disc.” 

“Bravo !” said Michel. “What we did not do, what we 
could not do on our first passage at the dead point, because 
the projectile was then endowed with too great a speed.” 

“Very well reasoned,” said Nichol. 

“Let us wait patiently,” continued Barbicane. “Putting 
every chance on our side, and after having so much des- 
paired, I may say I think that we shall gain our end.” 

This conclusion was a signal for Michel Ar dan’s hips and 
hurrahs. And none of the audacious boobies remembered the 
question that they themselves had solved in the negative. No! 
the moon is not inhabited; no! the moon is probably not 
habitable. And yet they were going to try everything to 
reach her. 

One single question remained to be solved. At what precise 
moment the projectile would reach the point of equal at- 
traction, on which the travelers must play their last card. 
In order to calculate this to within a few seconds, Barbicane 
had only to refer to his notes, and to reckon the different 
heights taken on the lunar parallels. Thus the time neces- 
sary to travel over the distance between the dead point and 
the south pole would be equal to the distance separating the 
north pole from the dead point. The hours representing the 
time traveled over were carefully noted, and the calculation 
was easy. Barbicane found that this point would be reached 
at one in the morning on the night of the 7th-8th of Decem- 
ber. So that, if nothing interfered with its course, it would 
reach the given point in twenty-two hours. 

The rockets had primarily been placed to check the fall 
of the projectile upon the moon, and now they were going to 
employ them for a directly contrary purpose. In any case 
they were ready, and they had only to wait for the moment 
to set fire to them. 

“Since there is nothing else to be done,” said Nicholl, “I 
make a proposition.” 

“What is it.^^” asked Barbicane. 

“I propose to go to sleep.” 


798 


ROUND THE MOON 


‘‘What a motion !” exclaimed Michel Ardan. 

“It is forty hours since we closed our eyes,” said Nicholl. 
“Some hours of sleep will restore our strength.” 

“Never,” interrupted Michel. 

“Well,” continued Nicholl, “every one to his taste; I shall 
go to sleep.” And stretching himself on the divan, he soon 
snored like a forty-eight pounder. 

“That Nicholl has a good deal of sense,” said Barbicane ; 
“presently I shall follow his example.” Some moments after 
his continued bass supported the captain’s baritone. 

“Certainly,” said Michel Ardan, finding himself alone, 
“these practical people have sometimes most opportune 
ideas.” 

And with his long legs stretched out, and his great arms 
folded under his head, Michel slept in his turn. 

But this sleep could be neither peaceful nor lasting, the 
minds of these three men were too much occupied, and some 
hours after, about seven in the morning, all three were on 
foot at the same instant. 

The projectile was still leaving the moon, and turning its 
conical part more and more toward her. 

An explicable phenomenon, but one which happily served 
Barbicane’s ends. 

Seventeen hours more, and the moment for action would 
have arrived. 

The day seemed long. However bold the travelers might 
be, they were greatly impressed by the approach of that 
moment which would decide all — either precipitate their fall 
on to the moon, or forever chain them in an immutable orbit. 
They counted the hours as they passed too slow for their 
wish; Barbicane and Nicholl were obstinately plunged in 
their calculations, Michel going and coming between the 
narrow walls, and watching that impassive moon with a 
longing eye. 

At times recollections of the earth crossed their minds. 
They saw once more their friends of the Gun Club, and the 
dearest of all, J. T. Maston. At that moment, the honorable 
secretary must be filling his post on the Rocky Mountains. 
If he could see the projectile through the glass of his 


ROUND THE MOON 


799 


gigantic telescope, what would he think? After seeing it 
disappear behind the moon’s south pole, he would see them 
reappear by the north pole ! They must therefore be a satel- 
lite of a satellite! Had J. T. Maston given this unexpected 
news to the world? Was this the denouement of this great 
enterprise ? 

But the day passed without incident. The terrestrial mid- 
night arrived. The 8th of December was beginning. One hour 
more, and the point of equal attraction would be reached. 
What speed would then animate the projectile? They could 
not estimate it. But no error could vitiate Barbicane’s cal- 
culations. At one in the morning this speed ought to be and 
would be nil. 

Besides, another phenomenon would mark the projectile’s 
stopping-point on the neutral line. At that spot the two at- 
tractions, lunar and terrestrial, would be annulled. Objects 
would ‘‘weigh” no more. This singular fact, which had sur- 
prised Barbicane and his companions so much in going, 
would be repeated on their return under the very same con- 
ditions. At this precise moment they must act. 

Already the projectile’s conical top was sensibly turned 
toward the lunar disc, presented in such a way as to utilize 
the whole of the recoil produced by the pressure of the 
rocket apparatus. The chances were in favor of the travelers. 
If its speed was utterly annulled on this dead point, a de- 
cided movement toward the moon would suffice, however 
slight, to determine its fall. 

“Five minutes to one,” said Nicholl. 

“All is ready,” replied Michel Ardan, directing a lighted 
match to the flame of the gas. 

“Wait!” said Barbicane, holding his chronometer in his 
hand. 

At that moment weight had no effect. The travelers felt 
in themselves the entire disappearance of it. They were 
very near the neutral point, if they did not touch it. 

“One o’clock,” said Barbicane. 

Michel Ardan applied the lighted match to a train in 
communication with the rockets. No detonation was heard 
in the inside, for there was no air. But, through the scuttles. 


800 


ROUND THE MOON 


Barbicane saw a prolonged smoke, the flames of which were 
immediately extinguished. 

The projectile sustained a certain shock, which was 
sensibly felt in the interior. 

The three friends looked and listened without speaking, 
and scarcely breathing. One might have heard the beating 
of their hearts amid this perfect silence. 

“Are we falling.^” asked Michel Ardan, at length. 

“No,” said Nicholl, “since the bottom of the projectile is 
not turning to the lunar disc !” 

At this moment, Barbicane, quitting the scuttle, turned to 
his two companions. He was frightfully pale, his forehead 
wrinkled, and his lips contracted. 

“We are falling!” said he. 

“Ah!” cried Michel Ardan, “on to the moon.?” 

“On to the earth!” 

“The devil !” exclaimed Michel Ardan, adding philo- 
sophically, “well, when we came into this projectile we were 
very doubtful as to the ease with which we should get out 
of it!” 

And now this fearful fall had begun. The speed retained 
had borne the projectile beyond the dead point. The ex- 
plosion of the rockets could not divert its course. This speed 
in going had carried it over the neutral line, and in return- 
ing had done the same thing. The laws of physics condemned 
it to pass through every point which it held already gone 
through. It was a terrible fall, from a height of 160,000 
miles, and no springs to break it. According to the laws of 
gunnery, the projectile must strike the earth with a speed 
equal to that with which it left the mouth of the Columbiad, 
a speed of 16,000 yards in the last second. 

But to give some figures of comparison, it has been 
reckoned that an object thrown from the top of the towers 
of Notre Dame, the height of which is only 200 feet, will 
arrive on the pavement at a speed of 210 miles per hour. 
Here the projectile must strike the earth with a speed of 
115,200 miles per hour. 

“We are lost!” said Michel coolly. 


ROUND THE MOON 


801 


“Very well! if we die,” answered Barbicane, with a sort 
of religious enthusiasm, “the result of our travels will be 
magnificently spread. It is His own secret that God will tell 
us I In the other life the soul will want to know nothing, 
either of machines or engines! It will be identified with 
eternal wisdom!” 

“In fact,” interrupted Michel Ardan, “the whole of the 
other world may well console us for the loss of that inferior 
orb called the moon !” 

Barbicane crossed his arms on his breast, with a motion 
of sublime resignation, saying at the same time: 

“The will of heaven be done !” 


CHAPTER XX 

THE SOUNDINGS OF THE SUSQUEHANNA 

, lieutenant, and our soundings.^” 

“I think, sir, that the operation is nearing its completion,” 
replied Lieutenant Bronsfield. “But who would have thought 
of finding such a depth so near in shore, and only 200 miles 
from the American coast 

“Certainly, Bronsfield, there is a great depression,” said 
Captain Blomsberry. . “In this spot there is a submarine 
valley worn by Humboldt’s current, which skirts the coast 
of America as far as the Straits of Magellan.” 

“These great depths,” continued the lieutenant, “are not 
favorable for laying telegraphic cables. A level bottom, like 
that supporting the American cable between Valentia and 
Newfoundland, is much better.” 

“I agree with you, Bronsfield. With your permission, lieu- 
tenant, where are we now.^” 

“Sir, at this moment we have 3,508 fathoms of line out, 
and the ball which draws the sounding lead has not yet 
touched the bottom; for if so, it would have come up of 
itself.” 

“Brook’s apparatus is very ingenious,” said Captain 
Blomsberry; “it gives us very exact soundings.” 


802 


ROUND THE MOON 


‘‘Touch!” cried at this moment one of the men at the 
forewheel, who was superintending the operation. 

The captain and the lieutenant mounted the quarterdeck. 

“What depth have we.^^” asked the captain. 

“Three thousand six hundred and twenty-seven fathoms,” 
replied the lieutenant, entering it in his notebook. 

“Well, Bronsfield,” said the captain, “I will take down 
the result. Now haul in the sounding line. It will be the 
work of some hours. In that time the engineer can light the 
furnaces, and we shall be ready to start as soon as you 
have finished. It is ten o’clock, and with your permission, 
lieutenant, I will turn in.” 

“Do so, sir ; do so I” replied the lieutenant obligingly. 

The captain of the Susquehanna, as brave a man as need 
be, and the humble servant of his officers, returned to his 
cabin, took a brandy-grog, which earned for the steward 
no end of praise, and turned in, not without having compli- 
mented his servant upon his making beds, and slept a peace- 
ful sleep. 

It was then ten at night. The eleventh day of the month 
of December was drawing to a close in a magnificent night. 

The Susquehanna, a corvette of 500 horse-power, of the 
United States navy, was occupied in taking soundings in the 
Pacific Ocean about 200 miles off the American coast, fol- 
lowing that long peninsula which stretches down the cost 
of Mexico. 

The wind had dropped by degrees. There was no dis- 
turbance in the air. The pennant hung motionless from the 
maintop-gallant-mast truck. 

Captain Jonathan Blomsberry (cousin-german of Colo- 
nel Blomsberry, one of the most ardent supporters of the 
Gun Club, who had married an aunt of the captain and 
daughter of an honorable Kentucky merchant) — Captain 
Blomsberry could not have wished for finer weather in 
which to bring to a close his delicate operations of sound- 
ing. His corvette had not even felt the great tempest, which 
by sweeping away the groups of clouds on the Rocky Moun- 
tains, had allowed them to observe the course of the famous 
projectile. 


ROUND THE MOON 


803 


Everything went well, and with all the fervor of a Pres- 
byterian, he did not forget to thank heaven for it. The 
series of soundings taken by the Susquehanna, had for its 
aim the finding of a favorable spot for the laying of a sub- 
marine cable to connect the Hawaian Islands with the coast 
of America. 

It was a great undertaking, due to the instigation of a 
powerful company. Its managing director, the intelligent 
Cyrus Field, purposed even covering all the islands of 
Oceanica with a vast electrical network, an immense enter- 
prise, and one worthy of American genius. 

To the corvette Susquehanna had been confided the first 
operations of sounding. It was on the night of the 11th— 
12th of December, she was in exactly 27° 7' north latitude, 
and 41° 37' west longitude, on the meridian of Washington. 

The moon, then in her last quarter, was beginning to rise 
above the horizon. 

After the departure of Captain Blomsberry, the lieu- 
tenant and some officers were standing together on the poop. 
On the appearance of the moon, their thoughts turned to 
that orb which the eyes of a whole hemisphere were con- 
templating. The best naval glasses could not have dis- 
covered the projectile wandering around its hemisphere, 
and yet all were pointed toward that brilliant disc which 
millions of eyes were looking at at the same moment. 

‘‘They have been gqne ten days,” said Lieutenant Brons- 
field at last. “What has become of them.?” 

“They have arrived, lieutenant,” exclaimed a young mid- 
shipman, “and they are doing what all travelers do when 
they arrive in a new country, taking a walk!” 

“Oh! I am sure of that, if you tell me so, my young 
friend,” said Lieutenant Bronsfield, smiling. 

“But,” continued another officer, “their arrival cannot be 
doubted. The projectile was to reach the moon when full on 
the 5th at midnight. We are now at the 11th of December, 
which makes six days. And in six times twenty-four hours, 
without darkness, one would have time to settle comfortably. 
I fancy I see my brave countrymen encamped at the bottom 
of some valley, on the borders of a Selenite stream, near a 


804 ) 


ROUND THE MOON 


projectile half-buried by its fall amid volcanic rubbish, Cap- 
tain Nicholl beginning his leveling operations, President 
Barbicane writing out his notes, and ^lichel Ardan embalm- 
ing the lunar solitudes with the perfume of his ” 

‘‘Yes! it must be so, it is sol” exclaimed the young mid- 
shipman, worked up to a pitch of enthusiasm by this ideal 
description of his superior officer. 

“I should like to believe it,” replied the lieutenant, who 
was quite unmoved. “Unfortunately direct news from the 
lunar world is still wanting.” 

“Beg pardon, lieutenant,” said the midshipman, “but 
cannot President Barbicane write 

A burst of laughter greeted this answer. 

“No letters!” continued the young man quickly. “The 
postal administration has something to see to there.” 

“Might it not be the telegraphic service that is at fault?” 
asked one of the officers ironically. 

“Not necessarily,” replied the midshipman, not at all 
confused. “But it is very easy to set up a graphic communi- 
cation with the earth.” 

“And how?” 

“By means of the telescope at Long’s Peak. You know 
it brings the moon to within four miles of the Rocky Moun- 
tains, and that it shows objects on its surface of only nine 
feet in diameter. Very well; let our industrious friends con- 
struct a gigantic alphabet; let them write words three 
fathoms long, and sentences three miles long, and then they 
can send us news of themselves.” 

The young midshipman, who had a certain amount of 
imagination, was loudly applauded; Lieutenant Bronsfield 
allowing that the idea was possible, but observing that if 
by these means they could receive news from the lunar world 
they could not send any from the terrestrial, unless the 
Selenites had instruments fit for taking distant observations 
at their disposal. 

“Evidently,” said one of the officers; “but what has be- 
come of the travelers? what they have done, what they have 
seen, that above all must interest us. Besides, if the experi- 
ment has succeeded (which I do not doubt), they will try 


ROUND THE MOON 


805 


it again. The Columbiad is still sunk in the soil of Florida. 
It is now only a question of powder and shot; and every 
time the moon is at her zenith a cargo of visitors may be 
sent to her.” 

“It is clear,” replied Lieutenant Bronsfield, “that J. T. 
Maston will one day join his friends.” 

“If he will have me,” cried the midshipman, “I am ready !” 

“Oh! volunteers will not be wanting,” answered Brons- 
field; “and if it were allowed, half of the earth’s inhabit- 
ants would emigrate to the moon!” 

This conversation between the officers of the Susquehanna 
was kept up until nearly one in the morning. We cannot 
say what blundering systems were broached, what incon- 
sistent theories advanced by these bold spirits. Since Barbi- 
cane’s attempt, nothing seemed impossible to the Americans. 
They had already designed an expedition, not only of sav- 
ants, but of a whole colony toward the Selenite borders, and 
a complete army, consisting of infantry, artillery, and 
cavalry, to conquer the lunar world. 

At one in the morning, the hauling in of the sounding- 
line was not yet completed; 1,670 fathoms were still out, 
which would entail some hours’ v:ork. According to the com- 
mander’s orders, the fires had been lighted, and steam was 
being got up. The Susquehanna could have started that 
very instant. 

At that moment (it was seventeen minutes past one in the 
morning) Lieutenant Bronsfield was preparing to leave the 
watch and return to his cabin, when his attention was at- 
tracted by a distant hissing noise. His comrades and him- 
self first thought that this hissing was caused by the letting 
off of steam; but lifting their heads, they found that the 
noise was produced in the highest regions of the air. They 
had not time to question each other before the hissing be- 
came frightfully intense, and suddenly there appeared to 
their dazzled eyes an enormous meteor, ignited by the 
rapidity of its course and its friction through the atmos- 
pheric strata. 

This fiery mass grew larger to their eyes, and fell, with 


806 


ROUND THE MOON 


the noise of thunder, upon the bowsprit, which it smashed 
close to the stem, and buried itself in the waves with a 
deafening roar! 

A few feet nearer, and the Susquehanna would have 
foundered with all on board! 

At this instant Captain Blomsberry appeared, half- 
dressed, and rushing on to the forecastle-deck, whither all 
the officers had hurried, exclaimed, ‘‘With your permission, 
gentlemen, what has happened?” 

And the midshipman, making himself as it were the echo 
of the body, cried, '“Commander, it is ‘they’ come back 
again !” 


CHAPTER XXI 

J. T. MASTON RECAEEED 

I T IS ‘they’ come back again !” the young midshipman had 
said, and every one had understood him. No one doubted 
but that the meteor was the projectile of the Gun Club. As 
to the travelers which it enclosed, opinions were divided 
regarding their fate. 

“They are dead !” said one. 

“They are alive !” said another ; “the crater is deep, and 
the shock was deadened.” 

“But they must have wanted air,” continued a third 
speaker; “they must have died of suffocation.” 

“Burned!” replied a fourth; “the projectile was nothing 
but an incandescent mass as it crossed the atmosphere.” 

“What does it matter!” they exclaimed unanimously; 
“living or dead, we must pull them out!” 

But Captain Blomsberry had assembled his officers, and 
“with their permission,” was holding a council. They must 
decide upon something to be done immediately. The more 
hasty ones were for fishing up the projectile. A difficult 
operation, though not an impossible one. But the corvette 
had no proper machinery, which must be both fixed and 
powerful; so it was resolved that they should put in at the 


ROUND THE MOON 807 

nearest port, and give information to the Gun Club of the 
projectile’s fall. 

This determination was unanimous. The choice of the port 
had to be discussed. The neighboring coast had no anchor- 
age on 27° latitude. Higher up, above the peninsula of 
Monterey, stands the important town from which it takes 
its name; but, seated on the borders of a perfect desert, 
it was not connected with the interior by a network of 
telegraphic wires, and electricity alone could spread these 
important news fast enough. 

Some degrees above opened the bay of San Francisco. 
Through the capital of the gold country communication 
would be easy with the heart of the Union. And in less than 
two days the Susquehanna, by putting on high pressure, 
could arrive in that port. She must therefore start at once. 

The fires were made up ; they could set off immediately. 
Two thousand fathoms of line were still out, which Captain 
Blomsberry, not wishing to lose precious time in hauling in, 
resolved to cut. 

“We will fasten the end to a buoy,” said he, “and that 
buoy will show us the exact spot where the projectile fell.” 

“Besides,” replied Lieutenant Bronsfield, “we have our 
situation exact — 27° 7' north latitude and 41° 37' west 
longitude.” 

“Well, Mr. Bronsfield,” replied the captain, “now, with 
your permission, we will have the line cut.” 

A strong buoy, strengthened by a couple of spars, was 
thrown into the ocean. The end of the rope was carefully 
lashed to it; and, left solely to the rise and fall of the 
billows, the buoy would not sensibly deviate from the spot. 

At this moment the engineer sent to inform the captain 
that steam was up and they could start, for which agree- 
able communication the captain thanked him. The course 
was then given north-northeast, and the corvette, wearing, 
steered at full steam direct for San Francisco. It was three 
in the morning. 

Four hundred and fifty miles to cross; it was nothing 
for a good vessel like the Susquehanna. In thirty-six hours 
she had covered that distance; and on the I4th of December, 


808 


ROUND THE MOON 


at twenty-seven minutes past one at night, she entered the 
bay of San Francisco. 

At the sight of a ship of the national navy arriving at 
full speed, with her bowsprit broken, public curiosity was 
greatly roused. A dense crowd soon assembled on the quay, 
waiting for them to disembark. 

After casting anchor. Captain Blomsberry and Lieuten- 
ant Bronsfield entered an eight-oared cutter, which soon 
brought them to land. 

They jumped on to the quay. 

“The telegraph they asked, without answering one of 
the thousand questions addressed to them. 

The officer of the port conducted them to the telegraph 
office through a concourse of spectators. Blomsberry and 
Bronsfield entered, while the crowd crushed each other at 
the door. 

Some minutes later a fourfold telegram was sent out — 
the first to the Naval Secretary at Washington; the second 
to the vice-president of the Gun Club, Baltimore ; the third 
to the Hon. J. T. Maston, Long’s Peak, Rocky Mountains ; 
the fourth to the sub-director of the Cambridge Observa- 
tory, Massachusetts. 

It was worded as follows: 

In 20° 7' north latitude, and 41° 37' west longitude, 
on the 12th of December, at seventeen minutes past one 
in the morning, the projectile of the Columbiad fell into 
the Pacific. Send instructions. — Blomsberry, Com- 
mander Susquehanna. 

Five minutes afterward the whole town of San Francisco 
learned the news. Before six in the evening the different 
States of the Union had heard the great catastrophe; and 
after midnight, by the cable, the whole of Europe knew the 
result of the great American experiment. We will not at- 
tempt to picture the effect produced on the entire world by 
that unexpected denouement. 

On receipt of the telegram the Naval Secretary tele- 
graphed to the Susquehanna to wait in the bay of San 


ROUND THE MOON 809 

Francisco without extinguishing her fires. Day and night 
she must be ready to put to sea. 

The Cambridge Observatory called a special meeting; 
and, with that composure which distinguishes learned bodies 
in general, peacefully discussed the scientific bearings of 
the question. At the Gun Club there was an explosion. All 
the gunners were assembled. Vice-President the Hon. Wil- 
come was in the act of reading the premature dispatch, in 
which J. T. Maston and Belfast announced that the pro- 
jectile had just been seen in the gigantic reflector of Long’s 
Peak, and also that it was held by lunar attraction, and was 
playing the part of under satellite to the lunar world. 

We know the truth on that point. 

But on the arrival of Blomsberry’s dispatch, so decidedly 
contradicting J. T. Maston’s telegram, two parties were 
formed in the bosom of the Gun Club. On one side were 
those who admitted the fall of the projectile, and conse- 
quently the return of the travelers ; on the other, those who 
believed in the observations of Long’s Peak, concluded that 
the commander of the Susquehanna had made a mistake. 
To the latter the pretended projectile was nothing but a 
meteor ! nothing but a meteor, a shooting globe, which in its 
fall had smashed the bows of the corvette. It was difficult to 
answer this argument, for the speed mth which it was 
animated must have made observation very difficult. The 
commander of the Susquehanna and her officers might have 
made a mistake in all good faith; one argument however^ 
was in their favor, namel}", that if the projectile had fallen 
on the earth, its place of meeting with the terrestrial globe 
could only take place on this 27° north latitude, and (tak- 
ing into consideration the time that had elapsed, and the 
rotary motion of the earth) between the 41° and the 42° 
of west longitude. In any case, it was decided in the Gun 
Club that Blomsberry brothers, Bilsby, and Major Elphin- 
stone should go straight to San Francisco, and consult as 
to the means of raising the projectile from the depths of the 
ocean. 

These devoted men set off at once ; and the railroad, which 
will soon cross the whole of Central America, took them as 


810 


ROUND THE MOON 


far as St. Louis, where the swift mail-coaches awaited them. 
Almost at the same moment in which the Secretary of 
Marine, the vice-president of the Gun Club, and the sub- 
director of the Observatory received the dispatch from San 
Francisco, the Honorable J. T. Maston was undergoing the 
greatest excitement he had every experienced in his life, an 
excitement which even the bursting of his pet gun, which 
had more than once nearly cost him his life, had not caused 
him. We may remember that the secretary of the Gun Club 
had started soon after the projectile (and almost as quickly) 
for the station on Long’s Peak, in the Rocky Mountains, 
J. Belfast, director of the Cambridge Observatory, accom- 
panying him. Arrived there, the two friends had installed 
themselves at once, never quitting the summit of their enor- 
mous telescope. We know that this gigantic instrument had 
been set up according to the reflecting system, called by the 
English “front view.” This arrangement subjected all ob- 
jects to but one reflection, making the view consequently 
much clearer; the result was that, when they were taking 
observation, J. T. Maston and Belfast were placed in the 
upper part of the instrument and not in the lower, which 
they reached by a circular staircase, a masterpiece of light- 
ness, while below them opened a metal well terminated by 
the metallic mirror, which measured two hundred and eighty 
feet in depth. 

It was on a narrow platform placed above the telescope 
that the two savants passed their existence, execrating the 
day which hid the moon from their eyes, and the clouds 
which obstinately veiled her during the night. 

What, then, was their delight when, after some days of 
waiting, on the night of the 5th of December, they saw the 
vehicle which was bearing their friends into space! To this 
delight succeeded a great deception, when, trusting to a 
cursory observation, they launched their first telegram to 
the world, erroneously affirming that the projectile had be- 
come a satellite of the moon, gravitating in an immutable 
orbit. 

From that moment it had never shown itself to their eyes 
— a disappearance all the more easily explained, as it was 


ROUND THE MOON 


811 


then passing behind the moon’s invisible disc; but when it 
was time for it to reappear on the visible disc, one may 
imagine the impatience of the fuming J. T. Maston and 
his not less impatient companion. Each minute of the night 
they thought they saw the projectile once more, and they 
did not see it. Hence constant discussions and violent dis- 
putes between them, Belfast affirming that the projectile 
could not be seen, J. T. Maston maintaining that ‘ht had 
put his eyes out.” 

“It is the projectile!” repeated J. T. Maston. 

“No,” answered Belfast ; “it is an avalanche detached from 
a lunar mountain.” 

“Well, we shall see it to-morrow.” 

“No, we shall not see it any more. It is carried into space.” 

“Yes!” 

“No !” 

And at these moments, when contradictions rained like 
hail, the well-known irritability of the secretary of the Gun 
Club constituted a permanent danger for the Honorable 
Belfast. The existence of these two together would soon have 
become impossible; but an unforeseen event cut short their 
everlasting discussions. 

During the night, from the 14th to the 15th of December, 
the two irreconcilable friends were busy observing the lunar 
disc, J. T. Maston abusing the learned Belfast as usual, 
who was by his side; the secretary of the Gun Club main- 
taining for the thousandth time that he had just seen the 
projectile, and adding that he could see Michel Ardan’s 
face looking through one of the scuttles, at the same time 
enforcing his argument by a series of gestures which his 
formidable hook rendered very unpleasant. 

At this moment Belfast’s servant appeared on the plat- 
form (it w^as ten at night) and gave him a dispatch. It was 
the commander of the Susquehanna’s telegram. 

Belfast tore the envelope and read, and uttered a cry. 

“What!” said J. T. Maston. 

“The projectile!” 

“Well!” 

“Has fallen to the earth!” 


812 


ROUND THE MOON 


Another cry, this time a perfect howl, answered him. 
He turned toward J. T. Maston. The unfortunate man, 
imprudently leaning over the metal tube, had disappeared 
in the immense telescope. A fall of two hundred and eighty 
feet ! Belfast, dismayed, rushed to the orifice of the reflector. 

He breathed. J. T. Maston, caught by his metal hook, 
was holding on by one of the rings which bound the tele- 
scope together, uttering fearful cries. 

Belfast called. Help was brought, tackle was let down, 
and they hoisted up, not without some trouble, the imprud- 
ent secretary of the Gun Club. 

He reappeared at the upper orifice without hurt. 

“Ah!” said he, “if I had broken the mirror?” 

“You would have paid for it,” replied Belfast severely. 

“And that cursed projectile has fallen?” asked J. T. 
Maston. 

“Into the Pacific!” 

“Let us go!” 

A quarter of an hour after the two savants were descend- 
ing the declivity of the Rocky Mountains; and two days 
after, at the same time as their friends of the Gun Club, they 
arrived at San Francisco, having killed five horses on the 
road. 

Elphinstone, the brothers Blomsberry, and Bilsby rushed 
toward them on their arrival. 

“What shall we do?” they exclaimed. 

“Fish up the projectile,” replied J. T. Maston, “and the 
sooner the better.” 


CHAPTER XXII 

RECOVERED FROM THE SEA 

The spot where the projectile sank under the waves was 
exactly known; but machinery to grasp it and bring it to 
the surface of the ocean was still wanting. It must first be 
invented, then made. American engineers could not be 
troubled with such trifles. The grappling-irons once fixed. 


ROUND THE MOON 


813 


by their help they were sure to raise it in spite of its weight, 
which was lessened by the density of the liquid in which it 
was plunged. 

But fishing-up the projectile was not the only thing to 
be thought of. They must act promptly in the interest of 
the travelers. No one doubted that they were still living. 

‘‘Yes,” repeated J. T. Maston incessantly, whose confi- 
dence gained over everybody, “our friends are clever peo- 
ple, and they cannot have fallen like simpletons. They are 
alive, quite alive ; but we must make haste if we wish to find 
them so. Food and water do not trouble me ; they have 
enough for a long while. But air, air, that is what they will 
soon want; so quick, quick!” 

And they did go quick. They fitted up the Susquehanna 
for her new destination. Her powerful machinery was 
brought to bear upon the hauling-chains. The aluminum 
projectile only weighed 19,^50 pounds, a weight very 
inferior to that of the transatlantic cable which had been 
drawn up under similar conditions. The only difficulty was 
in fishing up a cylindro-conical projectile, the walls of which 
were so smooth as to offer no hold for the hooks. On that 
account Engineer Murchison hastened to San Francisco, 
and had some enormous grappling-irons fixed on an auto- 
matic system, which would never let the projectile go if it 
once succeeded in seizing it in its powerful claws. Diving- 
dresses were also prepared, which through this impervious 
covering allowed the divers to observe the bottom of the 
sea. He also had put on board an apparatus of compressed 
air very cleverly designed. There were perfect chambers 
pierced with scuttles, which, with water let into certain 
compartments, could draw it down into great depths. These 
apparatuses were at San Francisco, where they had been 
used in the construction of a submarine breakwater; and 
very forunately it was so, for there was no time to construct 
any. But in spite of the perfection of the machinery, in 
spite of the ingenuity of the savants entrusted with the use 
of them, the success of the operation was far from being 
certain. How great were the chances against them, the pro- 
jectile being 20,000 feet under the water I And if even it was 


814 


ROUND THE MOON 


brought to the surface, how would the travelers have borne 
the terrible shock which 20,000 feet of water had perhaps 
not sufficiently broken? At any rate they must act quickly. 
J. T. Maston hurried the workmen day and night. He was 
ready to don the diving-dress himself, or try the air appa- 
ratus, in order to reconnoiter the situation of his courageous 
friends. 

But in spite of all diligence displayed in preparing the 
different engines, in spite of the considerable sum placed at 
the disposal of the Gun Club by the Government of the 
Union, five long days (five centuries!) elapsed before the 
preparations were complete. During this time public opin- 
ion was excited to the highest pitch. Telegrams were ex- 
changed incessantly throughout the entire world by means 
of wires and electric cables. The saving of Barbicane, 
Nicholl, and Michel Ardan was an international affair. 
Every one who had subscribed to the Gun Club was directly 
interested in the welfare of the travelers. 

At length the hauling-chairs, the air-chambers, and the 
automatic grappling-irons were put on board. J. T. Maston, 
Engineer Murchison, and the delegates of the Gun Club, 
were already in their cabins. They had but to start, which 
they did on the 21st of December, at eight o’clock at night, 
the corvette meeting with a beautiful sea, a northeasterly 
wind, and rather sharp cold. The whole population of San 
Francisco was gathered on the quay, greatly excited but 
silent, reserving their hurrahs for the return. Steam was 
fully up, and the screw of the Susquehanna carried them 
briskly out of the bay. 

It is needless to relate the conversations on board between 
the officers, sailors, and passengers. All these men had but 
one thought. All these hearts beat under the same emotion. 
While they were hastening to help them, what were Bar- 
bicane and his companions doing? What had become of 
them? Were they able to attempt any bold maneuver to 
regain their liberty? None could say. The truth is that every 
attempt must have failed I Immersed nearly four miles under 
the ocean, this metal prison defied every effort of its 
prisoners. 


ROUND THE MOON 


815 


On the 23d inst., at eight in the morning, after a rapid 
passage, the Susquehanna was due at the fatal spot. They 
must wait till twelve to take the reckoning exactly. The 
buoy to which the sounding line had been lashed had not yet 
been recognized. 

At twelve. Captain Blomsberry, assisted by his officers 
who superintended the observations, took the reckoning 
in the presence of the delegates of the Gun Club. Then 
there was a moment of anxiety. Her position decided, the 
Susquehanna was found to be some minutes to westward of 
the spot where the projectile had disappeared beneath the 
waves. 

The ship’s course was then changed so as to reach this 
exact point. 

At forty-seven minutes past twelve they reached the buoy ; 
it was in perfect condition, and must have sliifted but little. 

“At last!” exclaimed J. T. Maston. 

“Shall we begin.?” asked Captain Blomsberry. 

“Without losing a second.” 

Every precaution was taken to keep the corvette almost 
completely motionless. Before trying to seize the projectile. 
Engineer Murchison wanted to find its exact position at the 
bottom of the ocean. The submarine apparatus destined for 
this expedition was supplied with air. The working of these 
engines was not without danger, for at 20,000 feet below the 
surface of the water, and under such great pressure, they 
were exposed to fracture, the consequences of wliich would 
be dreadful. 

J. T. Maston, the brothers Blomsberry, and Engineer 
Murchison, without heeding these dangers, took their places 
in the air-chamber. The commander, posted on his bridge, 
superintended the operation, ready to stop or haul in the 
chains on the slightest signal. The screw had been shipped, 
and the whole power of the machinery collected on the 
capstan would have quickly drawn the apparatus on board. 
The descent began at twenty-five minutes past one at night, 
and the chamber, drawn under by the reservoirs full of 
water, disappeared from the surface of the ocean. 

The emotion of the officers and sailors on board was now 


81G 


ROUND THE M O O N 


divided between the prisoners in the projectile and the pris- 
oners in the submarine apparatus. As to the latter, they 
forgot themselves, and, glued to the windows of the scuttles, 
attentively watched the liquid mass through which they were 
passing. 

The descent was rapid. At seventeen minutes past two, 
J. T. Maston and his companions had reached the bottom 
of the Pacific ; but they saw nothing but an arid desert, no 
longer animated by either fauna or flora. By the light of 
their lamps, furnished with powerful reflectors, they could 
see the dark beds of the ocean for a considerable extent of 
view, but the projectile was nowhere to be seen. 

The impatience of these bold divers cannot be described, 
and having an electrical communication with the corvette, 
they made a signal already agreed upon, and for the space 
of a mile the Susquehanna moved their chamber along some 
yards above the bottom. 

Thus they explored the whole submarine plain, deceived 
at every turn by optical illusions which almost broke their 
hearts. Here a rock, there a projection from the ground, 
seemed to be the much-sought-for projectile; but their mis- 
take was soon discovered, and then they were in despair. 

“But where are they.? where are they.?” cried J. T. Mas- 
ton. And the poor man called loudly upon Nicholl, Barbi- 
cane, and Michel Ardan, as if his unfortunate friends could 
either hear or answer him through such an impenetrable 
medium! The search continued under these conditions until 
the vitiated air compelled the divers to ascend. 

The hauling in began about six in the evening, and w^as 
not ended before midnight. 

“To-morrow,” said J. T. Maston, as he set foot on the 
bridge of the corvette. 

“Yes,” answered Captain Blomsberry. 

“And on another spot.?” 

“Yes.” 

J. T. Maston did not doubt of their final success, but 
his companions, no longer upheld by the excitement of the 
first hours, understood all the difficulty of the enterprise. 
What seemed easy at San Francisco, seemed here in the wide 


ROUND THE MOON 


817 


ocean almost impossible. The chances of success diminished 
in rapid proportion ; and it was from chance alone that the 
meeting with the projectile might be expected. 

The next day, the 24th, in spite of the fatigue of the 
previous day, the operation was renewed. The corvette ad- 
vanced some minutes to westward, and the apparatus, pro- 
vided with air, bore the same explorers to the depths of the 
ocean. 

. The whole day passed in fruitless research; the bed of 
the sea was a desert. The 25th brought no other result, nor 
the 26th. 

It was disheartening. They thought of those unfortunates 
shut up in the projectile for twenty-six days. Perhaps at 
that moment they were experiencing the first approach of 
suffocation ; that is, if they had escaped the dangers of their 
fall. The air was spent, and doubtless with the air all their 
morale. 

“The air, possibly,” answered J. T. Maston resolutely, 
“but their morale never !” 

On the 28th, after two more days of search, all hope was 
gone. This projectile was but an atom in the immensity of 
the ocean. They must give up all idea of finding it. 

But J. T. Maston would not hear of going away. He 
would not abandon the place without at least discovering the 
tomb of his friends. But Commander Blomsberry could no 
longer persist, and in spite of the exclamations of the 
worthy secretary, was obliged to give the order to sail. 

On the 29th of December, at nine a.m., the Susquehanna, 
heading northeast, resumed her course to the bay of San 
Francisco. 

It was ten in the morning; the corvette was under half- 
steam, as if regretting to leave the spot where the catas- 
trophe had taken place, when a sailor, perched on the main- 
top-gallant crosstrees, watching the sea, cried suddenly : 

“A buoy on the lee bow !” 

The officers looked in the direction indicated, and by the 
help of their glasses saw that the object signalled had the 
appearance of one of those buoys which are used to mark 
the passages of bays or rivers. But, singularly to say, a 


818 


ROUND THE MOON 


flag floating on the wind surmounted its cone, which emerged 
five or six feet out of water. This buoy shone under the rays 
of the sun as if it had been made of plates of silver. Com- 
mander Blomsberry, J. T. Maston, and the delegates of the 
Gun Club were mounted on the bridge, examining this ob- 
ject straying at random on the waves. 

All looked with feverish anxiety, but in silence. None 
dared give expression to the thoughts which came to the 
minds of all. 

The corvette approached to within two cables’ lengths 
of the object. 

A shudder ran through the whole crew. That flag was the 
American flag! 

At this moment a perfect howling was heard; it was the 
brave J. T. Maston, who had just fallen all in a heap. 
Forgetting on the one hand that his right arm had been 
replaced by an iron hook, and on the other that a simple 
gutta-perclia cap covered his brain-box, he had given him- 
self a formidable blow. 

They hurried toward him, picked him up, restored him to 
life. And what were his first words? 

“Ah! trebly brutes! quadruply idiots! quintuply boobies 
that we are!” 

“What is it?” exclaimed every one around him. 

“What is it?” 

“Come, speak!” 

“It is, simpletons,” howled the terrible secretary, “it is 
that the projectile only weighs 19,250 pounds!” 

“Well?” 

“And that it displaces twenty-eight tons, or in other 
words 56,000 pounds, and that consequently it floats !” 

Ah ! what stress the worthy man laid on the verb “float !” 
And it was true! All, yes! all these savants had forgotten 
this fundamental law, namely, that on account of its specific 
lightness, the projectile, after having been drawn by its fall 
to the greatest depths of the ocean, must naturally return to 
the surface. And now it was floating quietly at the mercy 
of the waves. 


ROUND THE MOON 


819 

The boats were put to sea. J. T. Maston and his friends 
had rushed into them ! Excitement was at its height ! Every 
heart beat loudly while they advanced to the projectile. 
What did it contain.^ Living or dead.^^ 

Living, yes ! living, at least unless death had struck Bar- 
bicane and his two friends since they had hoisted the flag. 
Profound silence reigned on the boats. All were breathless. 
Eyes no longer saAv. One of the scuttles of the projectile Avas 
open. Some pieces of glass remained in the frame, shoAAung 
that it had been broken. This scuttle was actually five feet 
above the water. 

A boat came alongside, that of J. T. Maston, and J. T. 
Maston rushed to the broken windoAV. 

At that moment they heard a clear and merry voice, the 
voice of Michel Ardan, exclaiming in an accent of trimph: 

“White all, Barbicane, white all!” 

Barbicane, Michel Ardan, and Nicholl were playing at 
dominoes ! 


CHAPTER XXIII 

THE END 

w E MAY remember the intense sympathy which had ac- 
companied the travelers on their departure. If at the begin- 
ning of the enterprise they had excited such emotion both 
in the old and new AA^orld, with what enthusiasm Avould they 
be received on their return ! The millions of spectators which 
had beset the peninsula of Florida, would they not rush to 
meet these sublime adventurers Those legions of strangers, 
hurrying from all parts of the globe toAvard the American 
shores, would they leave the Union Avithout having seen 
Barbicane, Nicholl, and Michel Ardan.? No! and the ardent 
passion of the public was bound to respond Avorthily to the 
greatness of the enterprise. Human creatures who had left 
the terrestrial sphere, and returned after this strange voyage 
into celestial space, could not fail to be received as the 
prophet Elias Avould be if he came back to earth. To see 


ROUND THE MOON 


820 

them first, and then to hear them, such was the universal 
longing. 

Barbicane, Michel Ardan, Nicholl, and the delegates of 
the Gun Club, returning without delay to Baltimore, were 
received with indescribable enthusiasm. The notes of Presi- 
dent Barbicane’s voyage were ready to be given to the 
public. The New York Herald bought the manuscript at a 
price not yet known, but which must have been very high. 
Indeed, during the publication of ‘‘A Journey to the Moon,” 
the sale of this paper amounted to five millions of copies. 
Three days after the return of the travelers to the earth, the 
slightest detail of their expedition was knovm. There re- 
mained nothing more but to see the heroes of this super- 
human enterprise. 

The expedition of Barbicane and his friends round the 
moon had enabled them to • correct the many admitted 
theories regarding the terrestrial satellite. These savants 
had observed de visu, and under particular circumstances. 
They knew what systems should be rejected, what retained 
with regard to the formation of that orb, its origin, its 
habitability. Its past, present, and future had even given 
up their last secrets. Who could advance objections against 
conscientious observers, who at less than twenty-four miles 
distance had marked that curious mountain of Tycho, the 
strangest system of lunar orography How answer those 
savants whose sight had penetrated the abyss of Pluto’s 
circle.^ How contradict those bold ones whom the chances 
of their enterprise had borne over that invisible face of the 
disc, which no human eye until then had ever seen.^ It was 
now their turn to impose some limit on that selenographic 
science, which had reconstructed the lunar world as Cuvier 
did the skeleton of a fossil, and say, “The moon was this, 
a habitable world, inhabited before the earth! The moon is 
that, a world uninhabitable, and now uninhabited.” 

To celebrate the return of its most illustrious member 
and his two companions, the Gun Club decided upon giving 
a banquet, but a banquet worthy of the conquerors, worthy 
of the American people, and under such conditions that all 
the inhabitants of the Union could directly take part in it. 


ROUND THE MOON 


821 


All the head lines of railroads in the States were joined 
by flying rails; and on all the platforms, lined with the 
same flags, and decorated with the same ornaments, were 
tables laid and all served alike. At certain hours, succes- 
sively calculated, marked by electric clocks which beat the 
seconds at the same time, the population were invited to take 
their place at the banquet tables. For four days, from the 
5th to the 9th of January, the trains were stopped as they 
are on Sundays on the railways of the United States, and 
ever}^ road was open. One engine only at full speed, drawing 
a triumphal carriage, had the right of traveling for those 
four days on the railroads of the United States. 

The engine was manned by a driver and a stoker, and 
bore, by special favor, the Hon. J. T. Maston, secretary of 
the Gun Club. The carriage was reserved for President Bar- 
bicane, Colonel Nicholl, and Michel Ardan. At the v/histle 
of the driver, amid the hurrahs, and all the admiring vocif- 
erations of the American language, the train left the plat- 
form of Baltimore. It traveled at a speed of one hundred and 
sixty miles in the hour. But what was this speed compared 
with that which had carried the three heroes from the mouth 
of the Columbiad.^ 

Thus they sped from one town to the other, finding whole 
populations at table on their road, saluting them with the 
same acclamations, lavishing the same bravos ! They traveled 
in this way through the east of the Union, Pennsylvania, 
Connecticut, Massachusetts, Vermont, Maine, and New 
Hampshire; the north and the west by New York, Ohio, 
Michigan, and Wisconsin; returning to the south by Illi- 
nois, Missouri, Arkansas, Texas, and Louisiana; they went 
to the southeast by Alabama and Florida, going up by 
Georgia and the Carolinas, visiting the center by Tennessee, 
Kentucky, Virginia, and Indiana, and, after quitting the 
Washington station, re-entered Baltimore, where for four 
days one would have thought that the United States of 
America were seated at one immense banquet, saluting them 
simultaneously with the same hurrahs! The apotheosis was 
worthy of these three heroes whom fable would have placed 
in the rank of demigods. 


822 


ROUND THE MOON 


And now will this attempt, unprecedented in the annals 
of travels, lead to any practical result? Will direct com- 
munication with the moon ever be established? Will they 
ever lay the foundation of a traveling service through the 
solar world? Will they go from one planet to another, from 
Jupiter to Mercury, and after awhile from one star to an- 
other, from the Polar to Sirius? Will this means of locomo- 
tion allow us to visit those suns which swarm in the firma- 
ment ? 

To such questions no answer can be given. But knowing 
the bold ingenuity of the Anglo-Saxon race, no one would 
be astonished if the Americans seek to make some use of 
President Barbicane’s attempt. 

Thus, some time after the return of the travelers, the 
public received with marked favor the announcement of 
a company, limited, with a capital of a hundred million of 
dollars, divided into a hundred thousand shares of a thou- 
sand dollars each, under the name of the “National 
company of Interstellary Communication.” President, Bar- 
bicane; vice-president. Captain Nicholl; secretary, J. T. 
Maston; director of movements, Michel Ardan. 

And as it is part of the American temperament to fore- 
see everything in business, even failure, the Honorable 
Harry Trolloppe, judge commissioner, and Francis Dray- 
ton, magistrate, were nominated beforehand! 







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